


Unbroken: An Omega Tale

by ShiTiger



Series: An Omega Tale (DWD) [1]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alpha Liquidator, Alpha Megavolt, Alpha Quackerjack, Alpha Taurus Bulba, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beta Bushroot, Bulba is an abusive husband, Character Death, Comic: The Duck Knight Returns, Enemies to Lovers, Fearsome Four accidentally rescue Darkwing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Omega Darkwing Duck, Rape scenes will be marked at the top of the chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27988872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiTiger/pseuds/ShiTiger
Summary: Drake Mallard is an omega pretending to be an alpha.  As an alpha, he’s been able to support himself, and even adopt a child, without needing a mate.  But when Taurus Bulba returns for revenge, the bull decides to kidnap ‘Gosalyn’s father’ to draw out Darkwing Duck. It isn’t long before he discovers the truth, and decides that a different style of revenge would suit him just fine.  (Abusive relationship: Taurus Bulba x Drake Mallard.  The Fearsome Four accidentally rescue Drake Mallard)
Relationships: Drake Mallard/Liquidator, Drake Mallard/Megavolt, Drake Mallard/Quackerjack, Drake Mallard/The Fearsome Four, Gosalyn Mallard/Webby Vanderquack, Megavolt/Quackerjack (Disney), Reginald Bushroot/Drake Mallard, Reginald Bushroot/Liquidator, Taurus Bulba/Drake Mallard
Series: An Omega Tale (DWD) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2202867
Comments: 74
Kudos: 46





	1. A Flower to be Claimed

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: Inspired by the episode ‘The Steerminator,’ and set in the ‘The Dark Knight Returns’ comic universe. Taurus Bulba has returned as a ruthless businessman who owns the mega-corporation Quackwerks. He’s not a cyborg in this universe. 
> 
> (I decided to rewrite a short story I posted a long time ago, and it ended up longer than expected. It's dark at times, but I hope you enjoy it)
> 
> Chapter 1 will include a rape scene near the end. Fair warning.

Taurus Bulba would have barely noticed the little duck on a regular day. Other than being his target's adopted father, he was just another alpha without a mate. As an alpha himself, obviously, Bulba would have no interest in the shorter male, aside from using him as the perfect bait. 

Darkwing Duck would, no doubt, be distraught to learn that Gosalyn's father had been kidnapped. The arrogant fowl would rush to the rescue, only to fall victim to his deadly trap. Then he would take care of the annoying little duckling... perhaps he would adopt her following the tragic deaths of her hero and her father. A girl with that much spunk would certainly turn out to be an alpha or an omega, though he was betting on the former. 

Taurus prided himself on his patience as a businessman, and ordered his associates to keep an eye on the Mallard family until the perfect time arose to instigate his plan. In the end, getting the drop on the petite alpha duck had been faaaar too easy. One of his men, dressed up in a dress and shawl, pretended to be a little old lady who’d gotten turned around in a dark alley. When the alpha heard her call out to him, he immediately left the safety of the sidewalk to venture into the alley to help her. 

A little chloroform, and his men were able to drag Drake Mallard’s limp body into the back of an unmarked van, before delivering him to the tower’s hidden basement. They were just finishing the task of tying him to a chair in the center of the room when Taurus Bulba made his appearance. The businessman waved his goons off to keep an eye out for Darkwing Duck, and, as an afterthought, leaned down to check the ropes around the duck’s chest. It wouldn’t do for their hostage to escape simply because the ropes hadn’t been tied tightly enough. 

The bull’s nostrils flared as he caught a whiff of a strangely enticing scent that was nearly masked beneath the offending odor of the other alpha male. Curious. 

Taurus Bulba leaned in closer, pressing his nose against the other man's neck. Sweet... with the hint of peaches and spice. He trailed his fingers up the bird's delicate throat to caress his ivory-feathered cheek. Well now, it seemed that Gosalyn's father was a little sheep in wolf's clothing. An unmated omega of his age was nearly unheard of, especially one who managed to own a home, keep a job, and adopt a child... all without being discovered. Fascinating. 

Another whiff of the duck's intermingling scents, alpha and omega, brought a familiar face to the forefront of his mind. The bull's eyes trailed over the other man's body, taking in the similarities. A grin split over his face even as he held back the triumphant laugh that would surely wake his prey. 

“You certainly are an interesting omega, Drake Mallard. Or should I say... Darkwing Duck. I look forward to taming you. After all, you have been playing this dangerous game for far too long.” 

Untying the ropes, he hefted the omega gently into his arms, bridal-style. His lovely hostage deserved a trip to his penthouse suite. It would be the perfect place to discuss Drake Mallard’s future as HIS mate. 

* * *

Drake winced as the light beyond his eyelids nearly blinded him. He reached up to rub his eyes, only to find that his hands were tied together at the wrists. Resisting the urge to shout, he quickly rolled onto his side, pushing himself up into a seated position. 

“Am I naked?” His heartbeat filled his ears as he frantically searched the room he’d woken to find himself in. Whoever designed this place really had a thing for red, white and gold. It was a fancy place, and Drake wondered, at first, whether he’d been taken to some ritzy hotel. But why would anyone..? 

His mind jolted to a halt when he caught sight of his pink dress shirt and green vest draped over a plush chair nearby. Water was running in what was likely an adjacent bathroom, so Drake was sure his captor was likely in there, as well. As quietly as he could, he slipped off the bed, and reached for his clothing. His fingers were just closing around his vest when an imposing shape filled the door to the bathroom. 

Taurus Bulba.

Drake quickly replayed the afternoon in his mind, getting as far as the little lady in the alley, and then being jumped by Bulba’s goons who shoved a cloth over his bill. He’d tried to struggle, but he hadn’t expected to be attacked while out running errands as mild-mannered Drake Mallard. Did Bulba know his secret identity?

The bull smirked as Drake pulled his clothing to his chest, partially hiding his naked body from view. “Ah, you’re awake, I see. When I had my associates kidnap Gosalyn’s adopted father, I hadn’t expected him to be such a lovely specimen.” 

Drake Mallard? So, it was possible that the bull had no idea that he was really Darkwing Duck. Time to play the innocent civilian card. “I don’t know who you are, but you won’t get away with this,” Drake insisted, taking a nervous step back as the businessman walked closer. 

The bull let out a laugh, reaching down to grab Drake by the ropes that bound his wrists together. “Oh, but I think you do know who I am. I know who you are…” He leaned closer until he was inches away from Drake’s face. “You are Drake Mallard, Gosalyn’s father. But you are also - Darkving Duck.” 

“Darkwing Duck? Handsome alpha vigilante who fights crime? Never heard of him,” Drake chuckled nervously, his feet getting tangled in his shirt that had fallen to the floor when the bull grabbed him. 

“How cute. You are still trying to play innocent with me. Must be those alpha pheromones which are making you think you are something more than a delicate - little - omega. Come,” the bull ordered, dragging Drake forward like a sack of potatoes. 

“Hey! Let go of me!” Drake shouted, attempting to dig his webbed feet into the carpet for traction. 

“You are wasting my precious time, Darkving. This is my personal penthouse suite; it takes up the top three floors of the Quackwerks Tower. No one knows you are here except for me. Which means that you are at my mercy. So you should consider showing me the respect I am owed…” 

“Respect! You kidnapped me!” the duck shouted, kicking at his kidnapper’s legs. 

Taurus Bulba snarled, reaching out his free hand for a white cloth laying haphazardly on the bed stand. The duck was wrenched forward, the cloth pressed firmly over his bill. In moments, Drake’s vision began to blur, and he collapsed into the businessman’s waiting arms. 

“When you wake, Darkving, I will have washed all of that putrid alpha scent off of your supple little body. For now, sleep…” 

* * *

When Drake regained consciousness, he found his face pressed against the crimson bedsheets, once more. Keeping his eyes closed, he pinpointed the sound of liquid being poured into a glass filled with ice. Bulba was clearly in the next room, likely enjoying a drink at his own personal bar. 

His feathers were damp, and Drake could see that the ropes had been replaced by a pair of black fluffy handcuffs. A quick tug and twist revealed that they were the real deal, not just some cheap sex toys. Bulba was clearly getting off on the idea of having an omega crime fighter at his mercy. If he could just get his hands out of these cuffs, he’d have a fighting chance…

“You are awake - again. How do you like your new bracelets, dorogoy?” the businessman asked, striding into the room. He was clothed in only a white partially-unbuttoned shirt and navy dress pants. 

“Better than the ropes,” Drake grumbled. “And I’m not your dear anything.”

The bull chuckled, and drained his glass in a single swallow, before setting the cup down on a nearby table. “You know, it pays to be a wealthy bachelor. I have this entire penthouse suite to myself. It is the perfect place to entertain a delicate omega flower like you.” 

Drake grit his teeth, twisting until he was sitting on the end of the bed. “You may have discovered my true identity, and my… gender, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go down without a fight.” 

“I’d be so disappointed if you did,” the larger man said. He picked a small, black bottle off the table, holding it for Drake to see. “Do you know what this is, Darkving?”

The bottle had no lettering, just a flower on the side - a pink orchid. “No,” Drake admitted, keeping a close eye on the alpha for any sudden movements. 

“I thought not. This is an experimental drug with a long and convoluted scientific name. Most refer to it by another name, ‘Blush.’ It is a rather pretty name for such a powerful concoction.” Taurus leaned closer, his finger poised on the trigger of the spray bottle. “Can you guess what it does?” 

“It kills people?” Drake guessed, already knowing he’d guessed wrong. He tilted his face to the side, cringing as Taurus let out an amused laugh. 

“Goodness, no. It was specifically designed with omegas, such as yourself, in mind,” the bull stated, pressing down firmly on the trigger. The spray wafted into the duck’s face, causing him to cough at the overly-pungent floral scent. 

“That’s right - Darkving. Breathe it all in.” 

Drake could feel his heartbeat speeding up rapidly as a sudden rush of warmth swept over him. What was this? He fell back against the crimson bedsheets, his body thrashing from side to side as something deep within him began to ache. His eyesight grew hazy as he gasped for breath under the onslaught of the chemicals in the spray. 

“Do you understand now, Darkving? This spray is meant to induce your heat. It is most convenient for an alpha in a situation like this,” Taurus purred, untying his belt, and kicking his pants to the side. He didn’t bother removing his shirt or his very expensive gold watch. 

“This is… this is rape,” Drake gasped, as the other man’s large hands began to roam over his body. 

“I like to think of it as taking advantage of the situation. You have never taken an alpha’s mating bite before, have you?” 

Mating bite? Why would Bulba want to mate with him? Wasn’t this just about dominance and sex? And why was it so hot? His former heats were never this erratic. Drake could feel the slick leaking out of him, prepping him for the alpha’s girthy manhood. 

“Not to worry. I will take care of everything. All you have to do is submit to me,” the businessman purred, settling himself between the omega’s thighs. 

“N-never!” Drake protested, attempting to shove the larger male away with his bound hands. The man’s firm chest didn’t budge an inch. In response, Taurus grabbed his wrists in one massive hand, pinning them above his head. 

“Your struggles amuse me, Drake Mallard. You will be a fine prize. And if you behave, I will allow you to keep Gosalyn, and your secret identity. Not that anyone will believe that an omega like you was the infamous Darkving Duck.” 

Drake gasped as the alpha’s manhood began to press into him. 

“You’re so tight, Darkving. Have you never been with another man before?” the bull asked, shoving a few inches deeper in spite of the yelp the omega gave in response. 

Drake flung his head to the side, attempting to bury his tears into the blanket below. He could handle this. He was Darkwing Duck… He was…

There were a few shallow thrusts, and then the alpha surged forward, burying himself fully into the omega’s prone body. At the same instant, he pressed his teeth to the crook of the duck’s delicate neck, biting down with sharp, alpha canines to leave a mating mark for all to see. 

Drake felt his entire body go limp. That bite, he knew, was telling his body that he belonged to the alpha above him. That the bite would mark him as Bulba’s omega. They were as good as married in the eyes of society. 

“Your little alpha games are over, Darkving Duck. From here on out, you are Drake Bulba, my mate,” the alpha purred, licking at the bloodied mark on the smaller male’s neck. He continued his onslaught until he finally released deep within the omega’s body. 

Drake’s gaze remained fixed to the ceiling, even when the bull finally withdrew, and began pulling back on his clothes. 

“I still have business to attend to. You may as well clean yourself up, and get comfortable with your new life. Naturally, little Gosalyn will move into one of the rooms here at the tower. Ah, perhaps I shall have the guest suite on the main penthouse floor converted into a bedroom for her. Far enough away that we can still enjoy our _‘personal’_ time together in private.” 

Drake averted his eyes, but couldn’t help flinching as he felt the alpha’s lips trace over the mark on his neck. He was almost unaware of the handcuffs being unlocked, and placed back into the bedside table drawer. It didn’t matter that they were gone; he was as much a prisoner now as he was when they were on his wrists - his own biology made sure of that. 

* * *

“In other news, Taurus Bulba has decided to settle down. His mate-to-be is Drake Mallard, a completely unremarkable omega,” the newswoman announced, straightening her papers. “Rumor has it that he’s in his 30’s - a shockingly old age to be settling down with a mate.” 

“Indeed, Sandra, but we shouldn’t be too hard on him. He’d likely have gotten mated years ago if he hadn’t hid his true gender with alpha pheromones. Why, he even adopted a child last year,” her beta co-anchor stated.

“Yes. As you can see from the photos, Mr. Bulba was quite eager to welcome his new mate and daughter into his home. How generous of him.” They both turned to the screen, where several shots of a petite, green-vested duck, and his spunky red-headed duckling were being ushered into Quackwerks Tower by the smiling businessman himself. 

“Love must be in the air,” the alpha newswoman mused, turning her attention back to the cameraman. 

* * *

_I can see you stalking like a predator_

_I've been here before._

_'Cause I can read those velvet eyes_

_And all I see is lies._

_-Remedy (Little Boots)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to my research, the orchid is a symbol of fertility, elegance and luxury. 
> 
> I would highly recommend reading the graphic novel: Darkwing Duck: The Duck Knight Returns before continuing this fic. This story is set in an alpha/beta/omega version of this Quackwerks-centered future, minus the Bulba cyborg plotline. Quackerjack’s character is far darker in this comic, so he may seem very OC if you haven’t read it.


	2. Home Sweet Home part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter was not originally planned, and ended up far longer than I anticipated. Enjoy!

He could see his little house outside the limo’s window. As the sun continued to set in the distance, the lights from the living room seemed to glow even brighter. Before that day, his home would have been a place of safety and security, but now…

“This section of the limo is soundproof when the separating window is rolled up,” Bulba informed him, nodding at the closed inner window between them and the driver. “You are free to speak whatever is on your mind.” 

“Your hired goons… do they know?” Drake asked, refusing to turn away from the window. The businessman’s reflection smirked back at him. 

“No, and I will not tell them, or anyone else, about your secret identity - provided you comply with my terms.” 

“Marriage and complete obedience, you mean,” the omega huffed, his fingers clenching against his legs. 

“All I wish is for you to pretend to be a proper omega. You may say whatever you wish to me in private, but in public, you will behave accordingly as my mate,” stated Bulba. 

“I have a condition,” Drake ground out through gritted teeth, turning to focus his attention on the man next to him. 

“Do you now? How amusing,” Bulba chuckled, grinning down at him. It was a reminder of how small Drake was compared to his immense size. 

“Throw away that drug. Promise me you won’t use it!” the omega demanded, glaring up at the villain. 

Taurus Bulba shook his head. “No.” When the duck’s eyes widened in disbelief, he continued, “If you behave like a proper omega, I will not have to use it.” 

“We both know that I won’t,” Drake hissed furiously. 

“That is true,” the bull chuckled. He leaned closer to loom over his prisoner. “I would be so disappointed if the great Darkving Duck gave in so easily.”

“Why are you even doing this? Is this revenge for beating you?” Drake wondered aloud. 

“Drake, I am a businessman,” Bulba insisted calmly. “Marriage is nothing more than an elaborate business deal. I get a mate to satisfy my baser urges, and bear my children, and you, as the omega, get to bask in the safety and wealth I provide you.” 

Drake resisted the urge to stomp his foot, but that didn’t stop him from verbally lashing out. “I can’t even bear children!” 

Bulba nodded. “Yes, I am aware. While you were unconscious, I accessed your health records.” 

“Those are private,” Drake growled. “You had no right…” 

“It is my right as your mate, and soon-to-be husband. And while it is a shame that you are incapable of fulfilling your omega duties in the area of childbirth, you have, at least, given me an heir in the form of young Gosalyn.” Bulba straightened his tie. “I will give you the rest of the evening to share the good news. In the morning, I will send a car to pick you up.”

“You won’t get away with this,” promised Drake. 

The businessman reached out, gripping the omega’s chin to pull him closer. “Oh, but Darkving… I already have. If you say anything about our little arrangement, I may let it slip that the omega, known as Drake Mallard, is moonlighting as a vigilante. You have many enemies,” Bulba reminded him, his breath wafting into the duck’s face. “I’m sure they would be most eager to get their hands on you. And who knows what those ruffians would do if they discovered your  _ true _ gender.” 

“Couldn’t be worse than what you did,” Drake spat out. 

“You’re a very strong-willed omega, so perhaps you would be able to handle the dark desires of your enemies. But what if the knowledge of your gender was used against you, and one day you never came home? What would happen to little Gosalyn? She’d be shipped off to an orphanage already overflowing with desperate children. I can offer you a home - safety, comfort, security - anything money can buy,” Bulba promised him. 

“You can’t offer me freedom,” said Drake. 

“Freedom?” the bull laughed. “No one has true freedom. And besides, I couldn’t, in good conscience, allow a delicate omega to continue such a dangerous pastime.” 

“Delicate? I am not…” The omega’s words died in his throat as a firm hand clenched onto his shoulder, squeezing to the point of pain. 

“Ah, there’s young Gosalyn now. She must be so worried about you,” Bulba whispered calmly into the other man’s ear. They both turned their attention to the livingroom window, where they could see two shadowed figures having a discussion behind the curtains. One shadow had strong shoulders, and sported a long, hefty chin, while the other was child-sized and pigtailed. 

Gosalyn and Launchpad were probably wondering where he was. He’d been kidnapped in the early afternoon, and the sun was now setting in the distance. Any longer, and they might start to panic. Drake barely noticed the businessman’s other hand drifting down to his knee, until he squeezed his leg gently to get his attention.

“Or… I could come with you,” Bulba suggested softly.

The thought of Gosalyn opening the door to the sight of her worst nightmare standing next to her father was enough to prompt Drake into action. “NO!” he protested, pulling away from the other man to press himself against the door. 

“Very well.” Bulba slid back into his seat, eyeing the petite duck with unveiled amusement. “As I mentioned, I will send a car to pick you both up tomorrow. Once you and Gosalyn are safely within the tower, we can make arrangements to move… some of your more personal items in.” 

“Some? This is my life!” 

“Yes, yes… Your sad, little, mediocre life. Little wonder that you escape to your hero persona at night. But, as your mate, I will ensure that you have everything you need. Much higher quality than anything you could have previously afforded. All of your assets, of course, will automatically transfer to me - it is simply a matter of paperwork,” Bulba mused. 

“This is my house!” He couldn’t lose everything like this. He’d worked hard to earn a living for his family, and now the alpha was going to wrench it away from him. And the government would let him, because a married omega had little to no say over their own finances. 

“I would not be opposed to keeping the property. After all, I’m sure there are secrets you are eager to keep hidden. My generosity comes at a price, of course,” the alpha assured him. 

“What price? You already have what you want,” Drake reminded him sullenly. 

“Not quite. If you and little Gosalyn made a run for it, it would cost a great deal of time and resources to track you down. And track you down, I would,” Bulba snarled, his alpha canines flashing as his expression finally betrayed his true feelings. 

Drake felt the omega within him whimper at the sight. It urged him to submit; it pleaded with him to find a way to appease his alpha’s anger. He shoved the feeling down, refusing to let it overwhelm him. 

Like a mask settling back into place, Bulba became the calm businessman the world thought he was. “You and Gosalyn WILL be ready when my driver comes to pick you up tomorrow at 11am sharp. Pack a bag with only your essentials, as if you were going on a weekend getaway. Do not attempt to flee, or I will make your life very unpleasant.” 

“Is that all?” the omega grumbled. 

A smile crossed over the larger man’s face. “One last thing, to seal the deal - as it were.” He held out a hand, waiting patiently for Drake’s fingers to hesitantly settle against his palm. “Give your alpha a kiss goodbye, little omega.” 

Drake grimaced at the thought. Unable to help himself, he glanced over his shoulder. The shadows had moved, and it looked like Launchpad might be making a phone call. The longer this dragged on, the more they would worry. “Fine. One kiss,” he begrudgingly agreed. The businessman nodded, and despite their hands being clasped between them, neither made the first move. 

“Rather difficult to kiss when you are so far away,” Bulba stated, stroking a thumb over the back of the smaller man’s hand. 

Drake gritted his teeth. The alpha wanted him to make the first move. He wanted to pretend that their agreed relationship was consensual on both sides. It wasn’t, and Drake would never roll over and become the perfect omega Bulba wanted him to be. Still, it was best to get this unpleasantness over with as quickly as possible. Hand still trapped in the other man’s grasp, Drake pushed himself away from the door, crawling slowly forward on the leather seat until he was kneeling before the larger man. Gripping the side of the seat firmly with his free hand, he leaned upward to press his bill quickly against the alpha’s lips. 

In a move that should have been expected, Bulba’s free hand took hold of his hip, drawing him deeper into what was meant to be a light, almost nonexistent kiss. Drake’s words came out as a muffled protest as the other man’s tongue darted out to mingle with his own.  _ Shit!  _ Drake swore loudly in his mind as the businessman hummed contentedly under his breath. To his surprise, and despair, Taurus Bulba was not a bad kisser. Quite the opposite, in fact. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t a horrible person. 

Drake pulled back as soon as the other man released his grip. Still feeling the other man’s lips against his own, he fled the limo, hoping that Bulba wouldn’t ask for many kisses in the future. Having to submit to an unwelcome alpha was one thing, but he couldn’t - wouldn’t let himself forget the truth. Taurus Bulba was a villain to his core. 

* * *

“Hey, DW!” Launchpad announced eagerly, as the other man stepped through the door. The duck quickly shut the door behind him, but not before the beta caught a glimpse of a black limo rolling off down the street. 

“Dad!” Gosalyn threw her arms around the adult duck’s waist, hugging him close as she pressed her face into his shirt. “Where have you been? Do you know what time it is!” 

“I know, I know,” Drake sighed, patting the little girl on the back. “It’s… a long story.” He glanced up at his roommate, and immediately glanced away again. “Say, LP, can you order in? I’m going to take a shower and change.” 

“Of course, DW. Any place in particular you want to order from?” 

The omega gave him a wry smile. “Let Gosalyn choose. Anything you want, kiddo,” the vigilante said, patting her on the head, before slowly making his way up the stairs.

“YES! Pizza! With all the toppings!” 

* * *

“So, what gives, dad? Why are you being so nice?” Gosalyn asked, once she’d finished her dinner. A single portion of chocolate cake sat on a plate in front of her, as Drake and Launchpad cleared the table. 

“Well…” 

“Does it have anything to do with that limo that dropped you off?” Launchpad asked, reclaiming his seat after retrieving his own dessert from the to-go box. 

“You could say that,” the duck sighed. The kettle sang out, and he slowly poured himself a cup of tea, before joining them at the table. “Okay…” He took a deep breath, letting it out softly. “Remember when we had that talk about the birds and the bees and the ants?”

“Sure do!” Launchpad announced cheerfully. “I’m an ant!” 

“Er, yes, LP. Betas are the ants in this analogy, but I was talking to Gosalyn.”

The little girl nodded. “The birds are the omegas, and the bees are the alphas. Betas are the ants, because they make up the majority of the population. And it doesn’t matter if you were born with a male or female body, because you usually find out your secondary gender in high school.”

“That’s right. LP is a beta. Do you remember what I am?” Drake asked. 

“You’re an omega, but we’re not supposed to talk about it. I’m supposed to tell everyone you’re an alpha,” Gosalyn answered. She took a giant bite of her cake. 

“Omegas don’t have the same rights in our society as betas and alphas do. It is…” Drake’s hands folded around the tea mug as he took comfort in the warmth. “It is difficult to be a single parent, or even own property, as an omega. Most people expect us to get married as soon as possible once we are of age. Omegas are not encouraged to attend college, unless their future careers focus on more delicate subjects - like art or theatre.”

“Yeah, but you’re not a regular omega,” Gosalyn snorted. “You have martial arts training, and you were once a private detective, and now you’re Darkwing Duck!” 

“That’s right! You’re amazing, DW,” agreed Launchpad, through a mouthful of cake. 

“Thanks,” Drake said, smiling gently. “What I’m about to tell you is… difficult for me to say.” 

“Did you get a job offer? Does some rich guy want you to be his bodyguard?” the beta asked, thinking back to the limo in front of their house. 

The omega winced. “Not exactly. I’m going to be… getting married soon.” 

Gosalyn and Launchpad gasped aloud, exchanging incredulous looks. “You’re marrying Morgana?” Gosalyn asked in amazement. 

“No, not Morgana. I told you - our relationship didn’t really work out,” said Drake. 

“Awww… I wanted her to teach me to turn people into pudding,” the little girl sighed. 

“No magic for you, young lady,” Drake said, giving her a stern look. “But I’m sure I can convince Bulba to enroll you in martial arts lessons…” 

“Bulba?!” 

“Bulba? But Drake…” Launchpad trailed off, his eyes narrowing on his friend’s open collar. “Is that a mating bite?” 

The omega rubbed his neck, blocking the mark from view. “It’s… it’s complicated.” 

“You’re marrying Taurus Bulba!” Gosalyn yelled, jumping up from her chair to glare across the table at her adopted father. “But you hate him! He tried to steal my grandfather’s invention. He nearly killed me, and he nearly killed YOU!” 

Drake winced, her words hitting him like a punch in the gut. “I know, sweetie. And I…” No, he couldn’t tell her that the bull had raped him that very afternoon. Gosalyn was only 10-years-old. He couldn’t burden her with that. His eyes flickered to his best friend, who stared back at him in dismay. No, he couldn’t tell Launchpad either. The pelican would try to fix things, and only make it worse. Drake had to handle the situation carefully to ensure that his loved ones remained safe. 

“Yes, I’m marrying Bulba,” the omega announced. “And no, this is not a discussion. He’ll be sending a car to pick us up tomorrow morning, so I need you to pack a bag of essentials for the weekend, Gosalyn.” 

“I won’t do it!” she shouted, slamming her fork down. Without another word, she stormed away from the table, her footsteps thudding on the stairs as she rushed up to her room, and slammed the door. 

“That did not go well,” Drake groaned, burying his head in his hands. 

“Are you sure about this, DW?” Launchpad asked, clearly concerned. 

“Yes.”  _ No.  _ Drake forced himself to look up at his friend. The pilot nodded in response to his words, and then got up from his seat. With a determined expression on his face, he came around the table, and clasped Drake’s hands between his own. The omega tried to meet his gaze head-on, truly he did, but he couldn’t help looking away. 

“It’s okay, Drake,” Launchpad said, his voice calmer than the duck’s rapidly beating heart. “I completely support you. Does this mean Darkwing Duck is…” 

Drake felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. “It’s time for Darkwing Duck to fade into the shadows. We had a good run. I, uh, don’t know when I’ll have time to head to the tower. Can you lock up for me?” 

“Sure, DW. What about the ThunderQuack?” his sidekick asked. 

“She was your plane first. You keep her. She’ll be safe with you.” 

Launchpad nodded, pulling back. “Fine, but I’m leaving the RatCatcher at the tower - in case you ever need it.”

“Thanks. Well, I should start packing. You might want to look around for another place to live. I’m not sure what will happen to the house after Bulba and I are married.” Drake pushed back from the table, and got to his feet. “I’m sure he’ll be fine with letting you stay for a month or two, if you need time…” 

“Don’t worry about me, DW. I’ll find another place. There’s just one thing I need to know,” the pilot stated, placing heavy hands on the smaller man’s shoulders to hold him in place. “At least tell me that you  **want** to marry the guy…” 

“I...I want to marry him,” Drake choked out. The lie felt like thorns in his throat. 

The pilot frowned, releasing the omega’s shoulders. “Alright. But if anything happens that makes you change your mind, you can call on me. We’re still friends, right?” 

“Of course, we are,” Drake huffed, wiping tears from his eyes. “You’re the best friend I could ever ask for.” Suddenly overwhelmed by the events of the day, he flung his arms around the beta’s slim waist, clinging to him tightly. 

“Right back at you, Drake,” Launchpad said, returning his hug. It was several long minutes before they pulled away from each other. 

“I… I should get packed,” Drake said in a soft voice. “Would you mind clearing the table?” The pilot nodded cheerfully, and began to hum as he moved dishes to the sink. The omega, on the other hand, quietly made his way upstairs, already dreading the upcoming days. 


	3. Home Sweet Home part 2

_ (The following evening) _

Drake pressed his palm against the window, staring out at the lights illuminating Audubon Bay Bridge. Here he was, trapped in a glass prison - only able to glimpse his old life from afar. No amount of money or fine food or silk sheets could satisfy his desire for freedom. He caught a movement in the corner of his eye, and watched Bulba’s reflection in the glass as the alpha stepped out of his… _their_ bedroom. 

The omega felt his stomach begin to twist into knots as he recalled the events only a few hours before. He remembered how he’d practically begged the other man not to use the drug. He remembered what he’d offered in exchange for the alpha’s  _ generosity _ . He was, at least, grateful that he’d packed his toothbrush, along with a small bottle of mouthwash. He was definitely going to need a bigger bottle of mouthwash. 

The bull’s head turned toward him, and Drake realized his shoulder was peeking out from the neck of his purple nightshirt. Hastily, he readjusted it, wrapping his arms around himself unconsciously. The businessman turned away, taking his time as he poured himself a drink at  his personal bar. 

Was this his life now? Playing housemate to a criminal mastermind? Not that the people of St. Canard knew of his blackmarket dealings. As far as they were concerned, Taurus Bulba was a rich businessman who ran a successful company, and attended charity events. Anyone who was aware of his criminal tendencies was likely being paid off by him. Drake was sure the man had members of the police force on his secret payroll. 

“You should have a drink. It will calm your nerves,” Bulba stated calmly, his voice a deep baritone that many people - omegas especially, would find appealing. Drake was not one of those people. 

“I’m not nervous,” the duck protested. Another lie, but he didn’t need to tell Bulba that. Sadly, the businessman seemed to have the uncanny ability to see right through him. 

“It’s a gin and tonic. Don’t worry - it isn’t drugged.” 

Drake took the drink, if only to keep up a bold exterior. In truth, he was terrified. Fighting crime had been exhilarating, but now that he was married to one of his deadliest enemies, he didn’t have a clue what move to make.  _ I’m nothing more than a fly in a spider’s web, _ he thought to himself as he sipped the drink. The strong flavor settled on his tongue. “For the record, it wouldn’t kill you to add peach schnapps, next time,” said the omega, much to the larger man’s amusement. 

A rough hand slapped down on his shoulder, nearly unbalancing him as the alpha let out a heady laugh. “How amusing you are, my pet. Taming your wild spirit will be greatly entertaining.” 

“M’not a pet,” Drake grumbled, glaring sullenly out at the night sky and the city lights. They were a mild distraction from the reality of his new life. 

Bulba opened his mouth to reply, only to pause when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the message on the screen. “Ah, it seems that young Gosalyn has finally made her move. The night guards on the 12th floor caught her trying to sneak out.” 

“What?!” Drake hurriedly set his glass on a nearby side table, and rushed to the door. He didn’t wait for Bulba to catch up. 

* * *

Gosalyn was rigid in his arms as he sat down on the side of her new bed. The room was decorated in blue and white, along with a tasteful amount of sports paraphernalia. Bulba was clearly trying to curry favor with her - and hoping for a strong alpha heir that he could mold in his own image. 

“I hate it here,” the girl grumbled, even as Drake laid her down on the patterned blue comforter. 

“Gos…” What could he say? He hated it here, too. They hadn’t even been at the Quackwerks Tower a full day yet, and all he wanted to do was scoop up his daughter, and flee back to their old home - their old life. 

“Why are you marrying him, dad? He’s a monster.” The little girl darted forward, wrapping her arms around Drake’s neck. 

“Sweetie…” The omega felt his heart break as he held her close. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, and he was glad she couldn’t see them. “I told you, it’s complicated.” Drake drew in a deep breath, and quickly wiped the tears from his eyes, before readjusting Gosalyn in his lap. She stared up at him with intuitive green eyes, waiting for an answer he wasn’t ready to give. “I know things are going to be… difficult, at first. This is a big change for all of us. And I’m not asking you to like Taurus Bulba, but I do need you to  _ try _ to get along with him.” 

Honestly, he’d be happier if she never gave Bulba the time of day, but the alpha’s hidden temper was concerning. Blackmail be damned. If the man EVER laid a rough hand on Drake’s daughter, the omega  _ would _ take her and run. Bulba could do whatever he wanted to him, as long as Gosalyn was safe from his anger. 

The little red-head sighed unhappily. “Alright. I’ll… try.” 

“Thank you,” Drake whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And no more runaway attempts. You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.” 

“Fine. Can Honker come to visit us here?” Gosalyn asked, once she’d settled back against the pillows, and pulled the covers up to her chin. 

Drake nodded. “Once things settle down, I’ll see what I can do. A growing girl needs her friends, after all. Now, it’s very early in the morning,” said the former-vigilante, taking a glance at the clock on the bedside table which read: 2:14am. “Get some sleep.” 

“Can you stay with me tonight?” she whispered softly, even as her eyes began to drift shut. 

“Sweetie…” The sliver of light from the hallway grew larger as her bedroom door slid partially open. Drake felt a chill run down his spine as the shadow on the wall revealed the imposing figure of the horned businessman. “Not tonight. I’m just upstairs if you need me.” The omega leaned closer, unconsciously blocking his daughter from the bull’s sight as he kissed her forehead once more. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Drake pushed himself up from her bed, and turned to frown at the alpha standing in the doorway. “Goodnight, Gosalyn,” he whispered over his shoulder, before slipping out the door. 

“And now that she is safely in her bed, we can retire for the rest of the evening. Unlike you, I do need to work in the morning,” Bulba stated calmly, firmly shutting the bedroom door. 

Drake grit his teeth as the alpha’s arm wormed its way possessively around his waist. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t risk causing a scene within earshot of Gosalyn. Keeping his thoughts to himself for the time being, he allowed the businessman to escort him down the hall. 

They could have taken the grand staircase that connected all three penthouse floors, but the alpha seemed outrageously fond of using his personal, 4-floor elevator. In minutes, they stood at the door to Bulba’s spacious personal suite. The bull opened the door, and gestured for Drake to step inside. 

“Before I forget, my assistant is having a set of keys made for you.” 

Drake glanced over his shoulder in surprise. “You’re letting us leave the tower?” 

“Of course. You’re my mate, not my prisoner,” the larger man stated. “However, as my mate, you will need to be escorted by a personal guard. And I’ll provide a car and a driver, to ensure you and Gosalyn can be driven wherever you wish to go.”

“A personal guard? Driver?” Perhaps it was due to the long, mentally exhausting day, but Drake felt his temper snap in that instant. “I am a grown adult! I have a license, and I can perfectly well take care of myself and my daughter. I don’t need a bodyguard or a… Urk!” The omega felt the fabric tighten around his neck as Bulba fisted the front of his nightshirt, and pulled him into the air until they were nose-to-nose. 

“As per our agreement, you will behave like a proper omega in public. The citizens of our fair city will expect to see a pampered housemate, which is why you will have a personal guard, and a chauffeured vehicle.” The alpha sighed, and released his grip, allowing the duck to collapse to his knees on the floor, gasping for breath. “Honestly, any omega would dream of being in your shoes.” 

“I… am not… ANY omega,” Drake snarled, his hand pressed against his throat as he pushed himself to his feet. 

“No, you are so much more,” Bulba agreed, reclaiming his drink. “You are my most prized possession.” 

“Not your possession,” the omega grumbled, storming his way across the room to the bedroom door. “I’m going to bed. You’d better not try anything.” He disappeared into the bedroom, leaving the door partially open. 

* * *

Bulba finished off his drink, and set his glass down on the bar, before following his mate into the bedroom. As he slipped under the crimson blankets, he took note of the rigid line of the omega’s shoulders. The little duck was curled on his side, facing the closet, his body pulled as close to the edge of the bed as he could get without falling off. 

“Relax, Drake. As delightful as it is to be between your thighs, I do have to be up for work in less than 5 hours. Business before pleasure is a motto I live by,” the alpha insisted, turning off the bedside lamp. 

“Then by all means - work as many hours as you can,” Drake couldn’t help snarking over his shoulder. As long as Bulba was busy running his business, he and Gosalyn were safe from his overbearing personality. 

“I am a family man, now. I can hardly spend the majority of my day working, as I have in the past. Although with Gosalyn still in school, I would hate for you to get bored. It might give you ideas about returning to your illicit evening routine.” The bull snapped his fingers as brilliant thought crossed his mind. “You can work as an office assistant part time. You won’t be on the employee payroll, of course, but it will keep you busy for a few hours each day.” 

The omega rolled over to glare at the businessman next to him. “I already have to marry you. I shouldn’t have to work for you, too.” 

“Would you rather spend your days shopping or at the spa, like other rich housemates?” 

“No, but I have other interests…” 

Bulba waved a hand dismissively. “If it involves crime fighting, the answer is no. A proper omega would have no interest in such things. You will work for the company, part time, and be responsible for Gosalyn’s upbringing. In turn, I shall ensure you have a spending account, a new wardrobe that is more befitting your status, and anything else that a proper omega might need.” 

“I don’t…” 

The alpha sighed deeply, cutting off the other man’s incessant protests. “If you keep me awake any longer, I  **will** indulge myself in the pleasures of the flesh - despite your current attire being utterly unappealing.” The omega went silent at his words, shifting himself back into his position facing the closet. Bulba smiled to himself in the darkness. Taming his new omega would be his new favorite pastime. And as a bonus, he would no longer have to concern himself with Darkwing Duck’s interference in his shadier dealings. 

He now had almost everything he could want in life: A mate, an heir, and the end of Darkwing Duck. Total control of St. Canard was next on his list, but that could wait for another day. 


	4. An Unusual Kidnapping

_ The setting: An abandoned warehouse in the most run-down district in St. Canard. Inside, huddled around a wooden table, a small group of supervillains are discussing plans to reclaim the city for their own diabolical schemes.  _

“The city of St. Canard has practically been taken over by the Quackwerks corporation. Bulba's crime bots roam the streets, while the police sit in their cubicles doing paperwork. Not to mention the fact that Darkwing Duck hasn’t been seen in years…”

“Yeah, where is that guy? He used to always bust my bulbs.”

“Four out of five politicians agree that Taurus Bulba will be the candidate to watch out for when elections begin next year.”

“Can you imagine having that corporate creep as boss and mayor of St. Canard? His crime bots have stopped every break-in we’ve attempted. They’re worse than Darkwing Duck.”

“As I was saying, boys, it’s time to show St. Canard who the real villains are. We need to hit Taurus Bulba where it hurts.”

“What are we going to do?” 

“We’re going to kidnap Bulba’s omega, and demand a ransom that will financially cripple his company.”

“Oooh!” 

“Should I prepare a guest room?” 

“Of course not, Bushroot. He’ll be our hostage, not our guest.” 

“But what if he needs a place to sleep? Omegas are delicate, after all.”

“He won’t need a place to sleep!”

“Fine...”

“What’s the plan?”

“We distract the omega’s bodyguards, and Bushroot ties him up with his vines. As an added bonus, there’s always chloroform to keep him quiet.” 

“Then we bring him back here, and give his alpha a call. The bull will be begging us to take his money to keep his beloved  _ omega  _ safe.” 

A photo of an ivory-feathered duck was tossed onto the table for all to see. The middle-aged omega was dressed in a tailored pink dress shirt, and greyish blue dress pants. Even in the photo, they could see the impressive diamond wedding ring on his finger. 

“Looks like an easy catch.”

“I had Liquidator tailing him for the past week. He never leaves the Quackwerks Tower without his bodyguards, and they usually travel by limo. He’s a pampered little omega with a rich alpha. It’s his bodyguards that will put up a real fight.”

“Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Well then, boys. It’s playtime!” 

* * *

“Careful with his arm!” 

“I am being careful,” Liquidator stated, holding the omega bridal style in his watery embrace. The little duck’s left arm was in a sling across his chest. He’d clearly broken it after their original photo was taken. 

“This is Taurus Bulba’s omega?” Quackerjack slid a finger under the other duck’s chin, lifting his head to get a better look at him. “He doesn’t look like much. Definitely past his prime.” He pulled away, unconcerned as the other duck’s head dropped back down. The movement seemed to rouse him, and his dark eyes blinked open. 

The omega’s gaze swept over the villains as he fully regained consciousness. They waited for the screaming to start, but the little duck only raised a brow at Liquidator - who was still holding him against his watery chest.  “I don’t know how you found me…” the omega started to say, his voice deep and raspy. 

“It wasn’t hard,” Quackerjack interrupted. “Your husband is a rich man, and we intend to take advantage of that.” 

“My… husband?” The omega seemed confused. 

“I’ll get you a glass of water,” Bushroot offered. “Do you need a cough drop or something for your throat?” 

“Uh… sure. Thanks?” The omega didn’t flinch as he was set down, strangely at ease with being kidnapped. 

“Tie him to the chair,” the toymaker ordered. 

“What about his arm?” Megavolt asked, pointing out the sling across the little duck’s chest. 

“Be careful with it, but don’t give him special treatment. I told you idiots before, he’s a hostage, not a guest,” Quackjack snapped.

“Sorry about this,” Bushroot whispered, once the omega had finished his water. The ivory-feathered duck just shook his head, and took a seat on the chair, waiting patiently for them to finish tying him up. 

“It’s fine, Bushroot,” the smaller duck sighed, his broken arm resting against the ropes tied around his chest and other arm. 

“Oh, you know us? I guess we are kind of infamous,” the plant duck said. 

“So, you really just kidnapped me because of my… husband?” 

“Yeah. But don’t worry, once your mate pays the ransom, we’ll let you go.” 

The omega sighed, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. “He won’t pay.” 

“Oh, sweetie, of course he will,” Bushroot assured him, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re his omega.” The duck just shook his head, watching as they set up a laptop to capture his plight on film. 

“You have the frequency for his office computer?” Quackerjack focused his narrowed gaze on Megavolt, who nodded. 

“Yep.”

“Alright boys, it’s playtime,” the jester cackled, his tone low and menacing. “Oh, and gag the omega. We can’t have him spoiling our fun.” 

“Sorry,” Bushroot repeated, gently stuffing a piece of cloth into the omega’s mouth. The duck frowned back at him, clearly unimpressed. 

Quackerjack spun around, pointing an accusing finger at the plant villain. “And stop apologizing to him!” With a groan, he turned back toward the laptop Megavolt was fiddling with. 

“Here we go,” the electrical rodent announced, turning the laptop around in his hands, so that the camera was facing Quackerjack directly. The blue screen blinked several times, before a muscular bull wearing a red suit jacket and a yellow tie appeared before them. 

“Greetings, Taurus Bulba,” Quackerjack announced, swinging his arm up with a dramatic flair. 

“How did you get access to my computer? I am not an alpha that reacts kindly to games,” the bull stated firmly, his eyes narrowing at the villains on his computer monitor. 

“Oh, but I love games,” laughed the jester. “However, this isn’t a game. We have something of yours, and I think you’ll want him back.” Quackerjack nodded for Megavolt to turn the laptop camera to face the omega tied to the chair. Bushroot and Liquidator stood a few steps behind him, united as a silent threat.   


The businessman raised a brow at the sight of his helpless mate. “Goodness, Drake,” the bull said, his Russian accent thick and heavy. “How did you find yourself in this situation? Some might even call this karma.”  The omega’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the alpha on the screen.  “Nothing to say, I see. How fitting that THEY happened to be the ones to kidnap you,” Bulba continued, leaning back in his chair to take in the scene. 

“Enough!” Quackerjack stepped in front of the camera to glare at the businessman. “You have an hour to deliver ten million dollars…” 

“And if I refuse to pay?” the businessman interrupted, threading his fingers together on the desktop. 

Quackerjack shoved down the urge to throw a fit, and snatched a knife out of his belt. Stalking behind the omega, he held it against his pretty white throat. He ignored the gasp of horror uttered by Bushroot, chalking it up to his weakness as a beta. “Then your little omega doesn’t have long to live,” the jester stated, his voice low and menacing. 

The bull’s lips quivered as if he would soon succumb to an emotional meltdown or a furious roar of outrage, but in the end, he surprised them when he broke into a deep, reverberating laugh. The villains in the room glanced around at one another, confused. Even Quackjack stepped away from the omega, the knife dangling from his hand as he contemplated this unexpected turn of events. 

“How unfortunate,” the alpha sighed, once his laughter had trailed off. His steely gaze fixed on the omega tied to the chair. “Any last wishes you’d like me to pass along to our daughter?”

The omega’s glare seemed to deepen, and he threw a pointed look at Bushroot, who rushed to ungag him. His focus snapped back to Bulba. “MY daughter, Bulba.” 

“Not for much longer, I should think. Enjoy your final moments… Drake.” The screen went black, leaving the villains alone in the room with their victim. 

“There’s no hate lost between you two, is there?” the plant duck said, breaking the silence. 

“To think he has the audacity to call himself a proper alpha. Nine out of ten housemates would agree that he’s a total scumbag,” Liquidator huffed. 

“What do we do with him now?” asked Megavolt, setting the laptop down on a dusty table nearby. 

“Untie him. He’s clearly useless to us,” Quackerjack snapped, barely sparing the omega another glance. 

“Apologies, Mr. Bulba,” he heard the plant villain say, proving yet again that he was the weakest member of their group.

“Mallard,” the omega amended, as the ropes fell away. He held out a hand for Bushroot to help him up. “Drake Mallard. May I have my cane?” 

“Of course, sweetie,” Liquidator answered, nearly making Quackerjack gag. You’d think they hadn’t seen an omega before. He wasn’t THAT interesting!

“That name sounds familiar,” Megavolt mused aloud. “Drake Mallard. Drake… Mallard.” 

“We should just kill him,” Quackerjack grumbled to himself. “Worthless omega.” 

“Quackerjack!” Three equally-shocked voices rose up from his companions. 

“Fine. We’ll let him go, so he can go crawling back to that pompous asshole,” the jester snarked. “We’d be better off kidnapping his daughter, instea…” A smooth piece of rounded wood pressed against his throat, pulling him back against the slightly smaller body behind him. At the same time, something sharp dug against the side of his neck, forcing him to hold in his breath to avoid getting nicked. 

“If you even  **think** of going after my Gosalyn, one of us won’t be leaving this room alive,” the omega whispered in his ear, his bill barely brushing Quackerjack’s cheek. “And I assure you, Quackerjack, it  _ won’t  _ be me.” 

Around them, the remaining villains were frozen, staring at the scene as if they’d just witnessed an seemingly-innocent puppy viciously attacking a mountain lion. 

Quackerjack clenched his fists, shouting, “Do something, you idiots!” 

Liquidator took a step back, putting up his hands in surrender. “I’m not attacking an omega after you threatened their child.”

“Yeah, Jack, you know how territorial omegas are,” Megavolt said. Bushroot nodded his agreement, but he also partially hid himself behind his watery boyfriend. 

“Fine. The girl is off limits,” the jester growled, as he waited for the knife to slice into his skin. Much to his surprise, the omega stepped back, placing his cane down properly on the ground, so he could lean on it. 

“Thank you. Now I presume you want this back.” The omega flipped the knife in one hand, catching the blade lightly between his fingers, so that the hilt was held out to Quackerjack. The alpha jester clenched his teeth to keep his jaw from dropping open in amazement, even as he reclaimed the knife. 

“Very impressive,” Liquidator said, with a few watery claps of his hands. Bushroot eased out from behind him, taking several tentative steps closer to the omega. 

“You’re not afraid of us, are you?” the plant duck said. 

The omega’s bill quirked up into a wry smile. “What’s the worst you could do to me?” 

“We could still kill you,” Quackerjack said, scowling as the omega refused to scream in terror like a good hostage. 

“Is that all?” the omega said, shrugging his shoulders. “There are worse things in this world than death. Now then, I don’t suppose you boys have any food, do you? I’m afraid you kidnapped me right before lunch.”

“I made a stir fry last night. I think we still have leftovers in the fridge,” Megavolt offered. 

“That sounds perfect. Thanks, Megavolt,” the omega sighed, smiling gratefully. 

“N-no problem,” said the electric rodent, nearly tripping over his own tail as he spun around. He left the rest of the group to discuss their next move as he made his way to the kitchen to fix up a plate for the pretty omega they’d kidnapped. 

* * *

The abandoned warehouse they’d claimed as their current hideout had once belonged to a shipping company. The main room on the ground floor was massive, and haphazardly filled with broken boxes and unusable equipment. Just beyond that was a much smaller lunch room with a working stove and fridge, and a decently-sized locker room with a row of lockers, several bathroom stalls, and a small shower in the corner. 

The second floor was sectioned off into office rooms, but the Fearsome Four had repurposed them into private sleeping rooms - even if they only contained sleeping bags, pillows, and tattered blankets. Taurus Bulba’s crime bots were making their usually simple heists much more difficult. 

And, of course, none of them had forgotten the mysterious disappearance of St. Canard’s elusive vigilante seven years prior. There was talk of him being killed, perhaps a victim of some unknown villain who was exceptionally clever when it came to hiding a body. He’d just vanished one day, leaving the villains to commit their crimes in peace, until they were finally apprehended by the police. 

* * *

They were just finishing their makeshift meal when the laptop pinged Megavolt about a live broadcast being aired on all channels. He quickly turned on the video, leaving the laptop on the counter for all to see. 

“Earlier today, the criminal gang known as the Fearsome Four kidnapped Taurus Bulba’s omega mate while he was running errands. Mr. Bulba is here with us today on Channel 5 News to reach out to the kidnappers.” The camera panned away from the journalist to the massive bull sitting next to her in a navy blue suit, a lighter blue shirt, and a white tie. 

“Thank you,” Bulba whispered, taking a moment to wipe his eyes with the ivory handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “As you are now aware, my beloved mate has been kidnapped…” 

The omega at the table snorted, rolling his eyes.

“The ruthless villains hacked into my private line, and threatened my husband’s life. At the time, a ransom was not discussed.”

“Yes, it was!” Quackerjack fumed, hitting the table with his fist. 

“It seemed that they were more concerned with my crime bots, who have been successful in managing the crime in our lovely city.” Taurus Bulba took in a deep breath, his gaze focusing on the camera as he delivered his next words. “I would pay any amount of money to have my beautiful Drake back in my arms, but I will not be responsible for allowing villains to run rampant through our city. For the safety of our citizens, I will not withdraw my crime bots from the streets.”

“But Mr. Bulba, what of your omega? Have you heard any further news?” the anchorwoman asked, holding her mic closer to him. 

Taurus Bulba bowed his head, reaching deep into his jacket pocket. He withdrew a picture, and handed it to the woman next to him. She took it gently, gasping in horror when she flipped it over. 

“Dreadful,” she whispered. “Absolutely dreadful. Your poor omega.” The newswoman turned to the camera, and held up the photo with a furious glare. In it, they could see the omega duck tied to a chair with Quackerjack standing behind him, a knife to his delicate throat. 

“He must have been filming us when we contacted him,” Megavolt said. 

“But he hasn’t shown the police the film, likely due to his own callus reaction,” the omega finished, his fingers drumming a light beat on the tabletop. 

“I already fear the worst for my beloved omega,” Taurus Bulba sighed, a fake tear running down his cheek. “The Fearsome Four must be arrested, so that justice can be served.” The bull heaved himself up from his seat, pointing a finger at the camera. “If you’re watching this, you villains - your days are numbered.”

“There you have it, folks. A warrant is out for the arrest of the supervillains known as Quackerjack, Megavolt, Bushroot and Liquidator. Mr. Bulba has offered a five thousand dollar reward for any tips or information that lead to an arrest of one or more of the Fearsome Four.”

Megavolt sent out a jolt of electricity, and the laptop screen faded to black. “They’ve already branded us as killers,” he groaned, cradling his head in his hands as he bent low over the table. 

“This is not turning out as we planned, and it’s all YOUR fault,” Quackerjack whined, pointing a finger at the omega across the table from him. “Maybe if he actually wanted you back, he’d have paid the ransom.”

“Taurus Bulba is the most self-centered person I’ve ever met,” the omega retorted. “I doubt he’d pay a ransom for anyone other than himself. By the way, what was your original plan? Kidnapping people for ransom money has never really been the Fearsome Four’s style.” 

“Money was just the beginning,” Bushroot stage-whispered across the table. 

Liquidator surged up from the table next to him. “Are crime bots getting you down? Try the Fearsome Four’s villainous brand of justice…” 

“Take down Taurus Bulba, and those crime bots are history,” Megavolt added. 

“Don’t tell him ALL our plans!” Quackerjack snapped. 

The omega gazed around at them in amazement. “You’re planning to take down Taurus Bulba’s business empire?” He stood up from the table, his cane clattering on the ground as he announced, "I want in."   


Quackerjack snorted. “What can an omega like you possibly…” 

“Access codes. Blueprints. Dirty business partners. Bulba wasn’t shy about sharing that information. Clearly he didn’t think I’d ever be a threat to him.” The omega gingerly touched his injured left arm, before twisting the ring off his finger. He held it out to Bushroot. 

“Oh, and you can sell this, too.” 

The plant duck gently took it from him, admiring the solid gold band, and the clearly expensive diamond set into it. “Your wedding ring. Are you sure… Drake?” 

“I doubt I’ll be needing it in the future. I hope you don’t mind having an omega around while you plot and scheme,” the omega said, gazing around at the group of supervillains. 

“No, not at all. You’ll definitely liven up the place,” Megavolt said. “Oh, you can have my room upstairs. I’ll bunk with Quackerjack.” 

“Not that you don’t already spend most of your time in my room,” the jester grumbled. 

“I’d offer you our room, but it’s just a pot of soil and a kiddie pool. Crime isn’t what it used to be,” Bushroot sighed. 

“Thank you for the offer. That’s very sweet of you,” the omega insisted. “I’d like to freshen up before bed, if you don’t mind.” He sat back down, and fumbled for his cane which had somehow rolled under the table. A watery tentacle wrapped around it, depositing it into his hand. 

“Thank you, Liquidator.” 

“Uh, here. I’ll show you to the washroom. There’s a shower, too, but… you don’t have any other clothes. I could loan you one of my nightshirts to sleep in.” Megavolt waved for the smaller duck to follow him out of the room. 

“That would be lovely,” they heard the omega answer, before their voices trailed off down the hall. 

“Great, now we’re stuck with him,” Quackerjack huffed. 

“It’s not our fault you don’t like omegas,” Bushroot retorted, weaving an arm around his boyfriend’s liquid back. 

“Unlike the rest of you, I prefer my lovers to be able to put up a fight. Omegas are too sensitive.” 

“He didn’t look that sensitive when he was holding a knife to your throat,” Liquidator reminded him. 

“He only did that cause I threatened his kid. I guarantee that he’ll crack at the first sign of real danger,” the jester announced, springing to his feet. “I’m heading to bed. I’ll deal with this in the morning.” Liquidator and Bushroot exchanged a look as their leader left the room.

“I don’t think Drake Mallard is the type of back down from a fight. Do you?” Liquidator asked, nuzzling his lover’s green neck. 

“Definitely not. That omega is fierce,” Bushroot said. Hand in hand, the villains made their way up to their bedroom to rest for the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a huge fan of DarkPenguin’s DWD fanart. It got me hooked on Darkwing/Megavolt , and I’ve loved writing them ever since. So the characters are always a bit more anthropomorphic in my mind. And yes, Megavolt will always have a tail.


	5. The Heat Comes Rolling In

Bushroot rushed across the room, extending his vine arms just in time to catch the ivory-feathered duck as he stumbled down the last few stairs. “Goodness, Drake… Are you alright?”

The omega grimaced as he attempted to right himself, leaning heavily against the plant mutant for support. “I-I suddenly felt a bit lightheaded. I think I should be fine now.” 

Bushroot held out his sturdy wooden cane, which had tumbled from his hands on his way down the stairs. His eyes were brimming with concern as the omega burst into a sudden coughing fit. “Are you not feeling well? Here, let’s get you to a chair.” The scientist nearly carried the shorter duck into the lunch room to seat him at the table. 

“Thanks. I guess my throat still hurts from… well, let’s just say breaking my arm wasn’t exactly pleasant,” said Drake, touching the sling holding his bandaged arm in place. 

“You poor thing. I’ll make you some mint tea. That should perk you right up.” Bushroot got to work, setting the kettle on the stove, and then using his powers to grow fresh mint for the tea. As he did this, two of his teammates decided to poke their heads in the doorway. 

“Something smells good,” Liquidator announced, sniffing the air to find the source of the aroma. 

“Is someone baking peach tarts? No, wait…” Megavolt sniffed the air, as well, his whiskers twitching. “Spicy peach tarts.” 

Bushroot set the mint leaves into a lightly-chipped mug, pouring hot water over them. “Why would we be baking peach tarts?” 

Liquidator was the first to notice the omega’s delightfully pink cheeks as he hunched over the table, avoiding their eyes. Megavolt was still trying to pinpoint the source of the smell when the water villain snagged him by the belt, and began to drag him out the door. 

“Hey! What gives?” 

“He’s going into heat, idiot,” the dog hissed under his breath. “Don’t be rude.” 

Megavolt’s gaze landed on the blushing omega. “Oh. Sorry!” the electric rodent called out. “We’ll just wait out here.” 

“Do you have a heat coming on?” Bushroot asked. “I’m a beta, so I can’t really smell anything different. I mean, you smell nice, but you smelled nice yesterday, too, and now I’m rambling…” The plant duck quickly handed the omega his tea. The smaller duck took it gingerly from his hands, blowing lightly into the mug to cool the tea down. 

“That’s nice of you to say. I shouldn’t be going into heat yet, but I suppose it is possible,” said Drake, cradling the warm mug close to his chest. 

Their discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Quackerjack, who paused in the doorway to sniff the air. He immediately grimaced, his eyes narrowing on the omega at the table. “Omegas,” he huffed in annoyance, the bells on his hat jingling as he stormed over to the refrigerator. 

Bushroot just shook his head, taking a seat across from Drake at the table. “Are you on any drugs or medication that might have caused it to come early?” the plant duck asked softly. The omega glanced away, his fingers drumming on his knees in discomfort. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can get some for you…” 

“NO!” Drake shouted, his frantic eyes snapping back to Bushroot. It took the duck a moment to get his breathing under control, but then he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just… there is a drug, but it isn’t exactly legal.” 

“Heroin?” Liquidator asked from outside the door.

“Meth?” Megavolt chimed in. 

“What? No. Why would I…? Nevermind. Bulba said it was an experimental drug. He’s never told me it’s true name. It’s known as Blush. Have you heard of it?” the omega asked, glancing at Bushroot. 

“We’ve never dealt in drugs. Even Negaduck didn’t…” Bushroot flinched back as Quackerjack pulled his head out of the refrigerator to snarl at him. “I mean… sorry, no. We’ve never heard of it.” The plant duck tilted his head to the side curiously. “What is it for?” 

Drake Mallard sighed, his gaze flickering away to focus on the wall as he seemed to unconsciously stroke the mating mark on his neck. The other two alphas slipped into the room, overcome with curiosity even as they leaned back against the wall near the door to give the omega his space. “It doesn’t look like much at first glance. Just a small black spray bottle with a picture of a pink orchid on the side. It was created to… to…” The duck sucked in a breath, his fingers trembling. “To force omegas into their heat.” 

Liquidator and Megavolt flinched back, their teeth bared in shock. Quackerjack hissed under his breath, but said nothing. Bushroot reached out to pat the smaller duck’s knee sympathetically. “That’s horrible. How many times did your husband use it on you? Perhaps this is just a temporary side-effect,” the plant duck suggested, trying to stay positive.

Drake Mallard snorted in response. “He’s been using it on-and-off for seven years.” 

“That’s disgusting,” Megavolt snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“The Liquidator does not mean to be rude, but surely there were some red flags when you were dating Taurus Bulba,” the water villain said, raising a brow. 

Drake fixed his gaze at a spot on the wall with an intensity that could have set it on fire. “We didn’t date. Our first time wasn’t exactly consensual,” the omega stated gruffly. 

Bushroot visibly trembled, and then, unable to help himself, he rose from the table to wrap his lengthy arms around the smaller duck’s body to hug him close. “You poor, poor dear. Don’t worry - We’ll protect you from that horrible alpha.”

“This is why I hate omegas. Can’t even take care of themselves,” the jester grumbled, taking a swig of orange juice as he leaned back against the counter. 

“Quackerjack,” Megavolt whined nasally. “Don’t be so mean. Drake clearly needs our help.” 

“Do pompous businessmen have you feeling down? Are you tired of being treated like dirt? Trust the Fearsome Four’s villainous justice when it comes to your plans for revenge.” Liquidator formed a top hat out of water, and gave the omega a low bow with a saucy wink. 

“We’re not doing this for you, but I suppose your issues are just another reason to take down Bulba’s corporate empire,” Quackerjack huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Mmhmm…” The omega’s fingers were trembling again, his scent thickening with desire. 

“If you’re going into heat, then someone needs to take care of it, and it won’t be me.” Quackerjack cast a lidded glare around the group, before his gaze landed on his electrical partner. “Megavolt, you do it.”

The rodent froze, his tail swishing behind him in shock. “What? Why me?” 

“Because I said so. Just fuck him, and bite him while you’re at it. Then he won’t be tempted to escape back to Bulba the moment our backs are turned,” the jester stated, waving a hand dismissively. 

“I… I can’t just mate with him like that,” Megavolt stuttered. 

Drake pushed himself away from the table. “I don’t mind, Megavolt. Anything is better than going back to… him. That is, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother.” 

“You’re not a bother, at all,” the electrical villain sighed, casting a final glance at his lover who was frowning at him. “I suppose we’re heading up to my room, then. Er, your room…” 

“Thank you for the tea, Bushroot,” the omega commented over his shoulder. “Would you mind lending me an arm, Megavolt?” 

“Oh, of course!” The pair were soon out of sight, leaving the remainder of the group mulling about the lunchroom. 

“No point in sitting around, waiting for them to finish. I have a heist planned, so let’s get going,” Quackerjack ordered, storming out of the room. Bushroot and Liquidator exchange a quick glance, before following him out the door. 

* * *

Megavolt pushed the smaller male back against the open sleeping bag as gently as he could. The omega’s scent permeated the room, melting into the alpha rodent’s already frazzled brain. “You smell amazing. You smell… familiar.” His hips thrust lazily as he basked in the omega’s wet heat. 

“Ah, ah! You can go faster, you know,” Drake groaned, his good arm wrapping about the villain’s neck. 

“I could, but you deserve better than a quick fuck. Sorry, a quick… er…” Megavolt wracked his brain to come up with a more gentle description. 

The omega’s eyes were lidded and soft as he gazed up at his new alpha lover. “That’s sweet of you, Megavolt. Mmmm, yeah, right there.” Drake arched back as he wrapped his legs tighter around the taller man’s hips. 

“You’re so pretty like this.,” the villain admitted, gazing down at the other man’s ivory feathers, which were as soft as silk under his hands. 

“I’m nearly 40,” the omega snorted, rolling his eyes. 

“I just turned 40 last month, so that makes you a lovely young man compared to me,” Megavolt insisted, daring to sneak a kiss. When their lips finally parted, the omega gazed up at him with a pleased grin. 

“Flatterer,” Drake purred, leaning up to nuzzle his lover’s neck. Moments later, Megavolt returned the favor, pressing kisses to the smaller male’s tender neck. The omega’s scent deepened, sending a surge of primal lust through his alpha brain. The rodent’s hips began to thrust faster and faster, his tail wrapping around one of the duck’s legs for balance as he neared completion.

“Elmo - Elmo, please,” Drake pleaded, tilting his head to the side to bare his throat. “Claim me, alpha.” 

Megavolt blinked in amazement as his mind suddenly flashed back to high school. His memories before receiving his superpowers were spotty, at best, but now they unclouded just enough to reveal a younger omega duck - his classmate, Drake Mallard. He and Elmo had been lab partners a few times, but they’d never hung out enough to truly call each other friends. 

Drake had been confident and ambitious, always searching for a mystery to solve. Everyone assumed he’d be an alpha when he hit puberty, but he’d blossomed into an omega, much to their surprise. And now here he was, displaying that cool confidence despite the domestic violence he’d suffered for years. An omega like this deserved so much more out of life. 

“Drake Mallard…” Megavolt leaned closer, pressing a mating bite into the crook of the omega’s slender neck. The duck cried out beneath him, reaching his release seconds after the bite. The rodent thrust a few more times, before hitting his own peak. After catching his breath, the villain ran gentle fingers over the mating mark on Drake’s neck - HIS mating mark. 

“Are you sure this is alright?” Megavolt asked, even as he pulled himself away from the omega. He snagged a couple of tissues, and cleaned himself up. The duck nodded in response, and even smiled when Megavolt, cheeks aflame, attempted to pat away some of the moistness from between the omega’s legs. 

“Careful, I might start thinking you like me,” Drake teased, his voice rough from exhaustion. 

Megavolt watched the omega lean back against the sleeping bag, stroking his new mating bite almost fondly. 

“You shouldn’t get too comfortable with us. We’re still villains,” the rat grumbled, slipping away to pull on his clothing. 

“Mmhmm.”

When Megavolt turned around again, the ivory duck was curled within the sleeping bag, asleep. With the barest afterthought of stealing a proper blanket for the little omega, the rodent left the room. 

* * *

**Bonus**

“What do you think?” Megavolt asked, once they’d finished toting the new mattress, bedsheets, and pillows up to the second floor office room that was now the omega’s bedroom. They didn’t have a bedframe, but at least the mattress would keep him off the floor. 

“And we stole you this robe,” Bushroot announced, dropping the fluffy black robe into the omega’s hands. 

“Oh. I…” The duck turned to gaze around at the office room that was starting to look a little bit more like a bedroom. “I really don’t condone stealing from the good citizens of St. Canard,” the omega began, even as he stroked the soft robe in his arms. 

“We went through all that trouble…” Megavolt grumbled, only to be cut off by a light kiss on his cheek. 

“But I appreciate the thought. And certainly, my back will appreciate the mattress,” Drake admitted, sitting down on the end of the bed. His gaze travelled over the three supervillains, not surprised to see that Quackjack was absent. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” 

“Glad we could help.”

“Ten out of ten experts agree that omegas are happiest when they’re pampered and protected.” 

“You really don’t need to pamper me,” the omega protested lightly. “I’m the reason you’re public enemy number one, after all.” 

“Yeah, but people have always looked down on us. Once we take down Bulba’s corporate empire, you’ll be a free omega again,” said the rodent, nodding his head at his mutated companions. 

A smile quirked at the corner of Drake’s bill. “I suppose that’s true. Thank you again, guys.” 

The villains waved, and slid the door shut, leaving the omega alone in the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/3Jvk7Sqf1VM  
> Watch the Darkknight Returns Comic (fully voiced) on youtube. Episode 2 introduces the Fearsome Four. I love Megavolt's voice!
> 
> I've written a lot of parts for this fic already, but I still need to finish certain chapters, and pull everything together. I hope you enjoy the first 3 chapters. Let me know what you think, so far :) Next chapter: A Beta's Touch.


	6. A Beta's Touch

“I need Megavolt and Liquidator for this task,” Quackjack snapped, shoving Bushroot aside. 

“But Drake…” Bushroot swallowed his words as the toymaker’s fierce gaze snapped back to him. “I mean, the omega has been getting lightheaded again. It’s only been a few days, but I think he might be going back into heat.”

“Then you deal with it,” Quackerjack announced, waving him away. 

The plant duck rushed after him, undeterred. “But what if I can’t? What if he needs an alpha?” 

The jester came to a stop, pivoting around to shove his finger against Bushroot’s chest. “We’re not running a babysitting service. He’s a grown adult. If he can’t deal with his own issues, then he can crawl back home to his abusive alpha.”

“Jack…” Megavolt whispered, his voice deeply horrified. 

“This is why I hate omegas. Worthless for anything more than breeding,” the toymaker growled under his breath. He spun around and froze, coming face-to-face with the very omega they’d been discussing. 

“Here,” the duck stated calmly, holding out a piece of paper for Quackerjack to take. 

“What’s this?” the jester asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he frowned down at the offering. 

“The access code to the warehouse you’re attempting to rob.” 

Quackerjack reached for the paper, only for it to be yanked away at the last moment. “Unless you’d prefer to deal with Bulba’s guard robots. I’d hate to make your job _too_ easy,” the omega said, his voice low and hoarse. 

“Give it here,” the toymaker demanded, and the omega did as asked, though the unimpressed look that he threw over his shoulder as he walked away was enough to drive Quackerjack’s fury up a notch. “Get your gear! We’re leaving.” 

“Sorry about him,” he heard Bushroot whisper to the omega who’d settled next to him against the wall. The duck just shrugged his shoulders in response, his fingers trailing up to the mating bite on his neck. _Megavolt’s mark,_ Quackerjack reminded himself. Too bad for the omega that the electrical rodent belonged to him. Yes, putting some space between them was the best option for ensuring that Megavolt didn’t start second-guessing their relationship. 

Without another word, the jester stormed out of their makeshift hideout, not waiting for his partners in crime to catch up.

* * *

It was so hot. The omega couldn’t help thrashing side to side, trying to shake off the heat that was surging up from within him. This heat was worse than the last. 

“I’m sorry - you have - to do this,” Drake groaned, forcing himself to meet Bushroot’s gaze. “Will Liquidator be - upset? You’re - together, aren’t - you?” His breath hitched, and he let out an aching moan. 

“Yes, we’re mated,” the plant duck agreed, sliding his leafy fingers under the omega’s tail to caress his quivering hole, even as his vines wrapped around the duck’s petite body to tease him with lingering touches. “But Liquidator won’t be mad that I’m doing this with you. If anything, he’ll be upset that he missed out on helping you through this.” Bushroot wrapped a leafy hand around the duck’s adorable omega cock, and began to stroke. 

“Really? Ah, ah…” Drake let out a shuttering cry as he came for the third time. 

“How are you feeling now, sweetie?” Bushroot asked, pulling back a bit to look him over. 

The heat had ebbed for a moment, but it was building again. “Need more. Bite me, Bushroot. Please. You have such pretty purple petals. Want you to mark me…” the omega sighed, curling his arms around his mutant lover. 

“Alright,” Bushroot said, his cheeks bright from the compliments. He pulled the smaller duck closer, teasing his bill over the exposed ivory neck. His dull beta teeth wouldn’t have the same impact as the sharp canines of an alpha, but perhaps his bite would help. Bushroot sank his teeth into the crook of the other duck’s neck. According to his research, the mating bite should cause his heat cycle to begin its decline. 

“More… more!” the omega panted, thrashing in his arms. 

“I hope Buddy gets home soon,” the beta sighed. The omega was soft and pliant in his arms, but his extended heat was worrying. 

* * *

“Guess who’s back!” 

“Licky! Thank goodness you’re back,” Bushroot all but yelled, his gaze snapping to the watery form of his alpha mate. 

Liquidator surged forward, his eyes trailing over the plant duck, and the omega writhing in his arms. “How long has he been like this?” 

“Hours,” Bushroot admitted. “I’ve even tried giving him a mating bite, but I don’t think it worked. Maybe if you take over…” The plant duck tried to set the omega down, intending to move out of the way to let Liquidator work his magic - It didn’t work. Instead, the omega clung to him, surprisingly strong for his size. 

“Don’t go,” Drake groaned, nuzzling Bushroot’s neck as he snuggled closer to him. 

Why was this little omega so cute? He was just the perfect size for cuddling. “Okay,” Bushroot sighed, enamored with his new lover. 

“Try a double dose of villains today. 100% satisfaction guaranteed,” Liquidator boasted, weaving his watery body around the pair. The omega arched back into his embrace, his legs still wrapped around Bushroot. 

“You always have the best ideas, Buddy,” Bushroot insisted. He leaned up to press a kiss to the other villain’s muzzle. 

“Alpha? Beta?” 

“Someone’s getting jealous,” Liquidator grinned, stroking the little duck’s lovely white feathers. 

“Guess we’d better focus,” Bushroot agreed, a devilish glint appearing in his eyes. They soon had their adorable omega screaming in ecstasy, even as their matching bites on either side of his neck began to work their magic. 

* * *

“I… I’ve never been with two people at once,” Drake admitted, his cheeks reddening. Bushroot sat next to him on the bed - within touching distance, but also giving him his space. 

“Our call lines are always open for feedback and customer complaints,” Liquidator chuckled, leaning against the wall next to the mattress. 

“Complaints? I’m the one burdening you with my… issues,” the omega sighed. He glanced up at his newest lovers shyly. “Are you sure this won’t affect your relationship?” 

The mutants shared an amused chuckle at his concern, and a viney arm wrapped around the duck’s shoulders to pull him close. “We like helping you, Drake. We WANT to help you.” 

“Would you be open to continuing this arrangement when your soon-to-be ex husband is no longer in the picture?” the water dog asked, sliding closer to rest his arms on the mattress. 

“But you barely know me,” Drake whispered. 

“We’ll learn as we go,” the plant duck insisted lightly. “Isn’t that right, Buddy?”

“A salesman’s word is his bond,” agreed Liquidator. 

“I… I…” The omega pressed his face into his hands, feeling tears dripping down his cheeks. 

“We’re sorry,” Bushroot immediately exclaimed. “We didn’t mean to pressure you.” 

Drake scrubbed at his tears, before turning to wrap his good arm around the plant duck. He pressed his face against the mutant’s green chest. “You aren’t pressuring me. If anything, you’re being _too_ nice.” 

“Awww…” Bushroot snuggled the omega close, rubbing his chin against the smaller duck’s head. “You know, you still haven’t answered Buddy’s question.” 

“I… If you’re sure you want to keep doing this… I’d be open to a relationship,” Drake whispered, his cheeks reddening again as he pulled back from his taller lover. “Shouldn’t you be giving me a hug, too, Buddy?”

“Bud Flud could never say no to a sales pitch like that,” Liquidator chuckled, wrapping his watery arms around the little duck to pull himself onto the mattress. The omega leaned against him, unconcerned by his liquid body.

“And besides, it’s not like you're harboring some deep, dark secret, Drake,” Bushroot added, scooting closer to be part of the hug. 

“Heh, heh… yeah,” Drake chuckled awkwardly, burying his face against Liquidator’s squishy chest. Without warning, a tickle rose up in his throat, causing his small body to be wracked by a fit of coughing. “Sorry,” he finally gasped, once the coughing subsided. 

“You need to rest,” Liquidator insisted, easing himself back off the bed. Bushroot followed his lead, reaching for pillows and blankets to make their omega comfortable. 

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me like this,” Drake grumbled, pulling the covers up to his neck. 

Bushroot leaned down to nuzzle the smaller man’s ivory head-feathers. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll make you some tea.” He slipped away from the omega, waving Buddy to follow him out the door. 

“Thanks,” the omega whispered, his voice muffled by the blanket. 

* * *

Was his condition getting worse or better? It was hard to tell. Bushroot wasn’t well versed in the medical needs of actual people. Maybe it would be best to take the omega to a hospital… No! The hospital staff would be sure to contact Taurus Bulba, and the duck would be forced back into the abusive relationship they’d unexpectedly rescued him from. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Liquidator commented lightly, leaning back in his chair at the lunchroom table. 

“I just wish we could do more. We can’t take him to a hospital, or his horrible husband might try to reclaim him.”

“We could kidnap a doctor…” the water villain began, only to be cut off by a wave of Bushroot’s leafy hand. 

“Drake would be furious. He’s just so pure-hearted,” Bushroot said, cradling the omega’s mug in his leafy hands. 

“You forgot to mention stubborn and opinionated. In a good way,” Liquidator insisted, when his lover shot him a look. “He’s unique.” 

Bushroot smiled. “He certainly is. I’d better bring him his tea. Maybe he’ll share more details about his life if I go alone.” 

“You’re the scientist, Dr. Bushroot,” the salesman teased, planting a wet kiss on his cheek, before wandering off to find something to occupy his time. 

“Silly dog,” the plant duck chuckled, shaking his head. With slow steps, he made his way back up the stairs to deliver the tea. 

* * *

Drake was sitting up on his mattress, holding his wallet in one hand as he gazed at a small photo in the other. The duck set the wallet on the corner of the mattress as Bushroot handed him the mug of tea. 

“What’s wrong?” Bushroot asked, taking a seat next to him on top of the blankets. 

“It’s nothing. I just… miss my daughter,” the omega sighed. He turned the photograph around to show Bushroot the image of a smiling girl in a school uniform with shoulder-length red hair. “Bulba has been sending her to a boarding school overseas since she was in 7th grade. She’s 17 now, and she’ll be graduating this year.” Drake glanced down at his tea cup, blowing on it gently. “I really only get to see her during the holidays.”

A leafy arm wrapped itself around his shoulders with the intent to comfort. “At least, she’s safe. Do you think she knows about all of this?” Bushroot asked curiously. 

Drake snorted inelegantly. “Knowing that stubborn alpha, he probably had the school hide the news from her. He likely thinks that it would be easier to mold her into his true heir if I were out of the picture.” 

“Drake - you know we would never hurt you,” the villain assured him. 

“You’re sweet, Bushroot,” the omega insisted, leaning closer to kiss his new lover on the cheek. 

Bushroot waited until the smaller duck had had a chance to start sipping his tea before asking, “What is she like? Your daughter, I mean.” 

“Gosalyn? She’s headstrong and stubborn - a real handful. I adopted her after her grandfather died.” Drake let out a dry laugh. “You know, I never thought I’d have kids.” 

“Really?” 

“I…” The omega took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. His free hand drifted to his stomach. “I had an accident in my 20s. After that, I started using alpha pheromones every day. There didn’t seem to be a reason not to. And, let’s face it, no one questions an alpha or beta that chooses not to settle down.”

“Were there any side effects?” 

Drake shrugged his shoulders. “Some, but I learned to live with them.” A smile lit up his face as he continued, “And then Gos came along. She’s a red-haired little spitfire. Her and Honker were quite the pair.” 

“Honker?” 

“Oh, Honker Muddlefoot. The neighbour’s youngest son. Their older son, Tank, was a brute. But if there was one thing Gosalyn was good at, it was dealing with bullies.” 

“Sounds a lot like her dad,” Bushroot chuckled, hugging the smaller bird close. 

“Yeah, we were quite the pair. I don’t know how LP put up with us,” said Drake. 

“LP?” 

“Oh, um… My roommate. No, my best friend.” Drake glanced back out the window. “We lost touch after I got married. Bulba felt the need to control nearly every aspect of my life, so I wasn’t given much freedom. In the end, it was difficult to keep in contact with the people I’d known in my old life - even my best friend. LP was a beta with a heart of gold. And yeah, I miss him, too,” the omega admitted. 

“Don’t worry. When this is all over, we’ll make sure you see them again,” the plant duck reassured him. 

“Thanks,” Drake yawned, finishing the rest of the tea quickly. “You should consider a future in tea making. I’ve never tried this blend before, and it was delicious.” 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. You should get some rest,” said Bushroot, leaning closer to kiss the omega on the cheek. As the civilian nestled down under the blankets, the villain made his way to the door. 

“Goodnight, Bushroot.”

“Please, call me Reggie. Goodnight, Drake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not gonna lie… Liquidator’s salesman lines are the hardest things to write.


	7. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rape and violence, but a heart-warming ending.

Drake rarely had nightmares about the villains he’d fought on an almost-nightly basis as Darkwing Duck. Compared to the physical and psychological torment that Taurus Bulba had forced on him, Darkwing Duck’s regular villains seemed trivial by comparison. 

Tonight, his dreams were replaced by memories as dark as any night terror. One memory came into focus stronger than the rest. 

Drake could feel the silken sheets beneath his hands and knees, alluding to a softness that couldn’t be found in his marriage. Bulba held his hips steady as he thrust into him, seemingly ignorant to the omega’s protests. 

“Stop. I don’t want this. I’m not even in heat…”  _ Get off - Get off - Get off!  _ His inner voice echoed within his head, even as he tried to pull away from the much larger man on top of him. To his amazement, the businessman stilled, before silently pulling out of him. Drake breathed a sigh of relief, only to gasp in shock as one of his husband’s massive hands wrapped around his arm, while the other gripped the back of his head to shove his face into the pillow. His captured arm was wrenched back, forcing a scream of pain from his lips. 

Still holding his arm captive, Bulba re-entered him, his thrusts deeper and more forceful. He came to the sound of the omega whimpering in pain. “You should learn to submit to my desires, Drake. It will be easier for you if you just accept that this is your life now.” The businessman withdrew, wiping himself casually on the bedsheets, before reaching for his clothing. 

Drake rolled gently onto his uninjured side, unable to stop the tears that were leaking onto the pillow. He could feel his heart beating rapidly within his chest - like a terrified bird in a cage. Who was he kidding? He  _ was _ the terrified bird in the cage. “Y-you didn’t even use the spray...” 

Bulba’s gaze re-focused on him. “I shouldn’t have to force my own mate into heat to have a semi-willing bedmate.” 

“I’ll never be willing,” Drake snapped, his feathers bristling in anger. Bulba raised a brow at him, a smile curving his lips. “Those times don’t count! Clearly I was experiencing stockholm syndrome, or a flare up of omega hormones, or…” The duck’s words cut off when he jostled his arm, sending a flare of pain up into his shoulder. 

“Or you secretly desire my companionship. We could be good together, Drake, if you would just stop clinging to your old life. Besides, we’ve been married for seven years. Society would judge you more for denying an alpha their marital rights. This is what omegas are for.” 

“S-shut up, bastard,” Drake hissed, gasping for breath. “Omegas are not property - we’re people.” 

Bulba let out a low chuckle, so deep and reverberating that it sent a spike of fear through the omega’s chest. The alpha leaned in closer, forcing Drake to lay prone on his back to avoid touching the larger man more than he had to. Something deeply ingrained in his omega brain told him to submit, to do as his alpha desired. Powerless to resist, Drake found himself tilting his head to the side to reveal the mate mark on his neck. 

“Oh, but Darkving… you  **ARE** my property,” the bull purred, sniffing lightly at the omega’s neck, taking in his natural fragrance. To drive the point home, he rubbed the side of his face under the duck’s bill, where the hardened yellow flesh met the feathers that covered the rest of his body - scenting him in a primal way that would leave Drake unable to rid himself of the alpha’s scent for the remainder of the day. 

“Clean yourself up, and have your bodyguards take you to the hospital. You are not to shower until tonight,” Bulba ordered, pushing himself up to tower over his mate. 

“And you wonder why I hate you,” Drake snapped back, wincing in discomfort. 

“Seven years, and still so much fire. Very well then, one last thing,” Bulba sighed, his face a mask of cool indifference as he took hold of the omega’s already injured arm, and wrenched it to the side. There was a loud SNAP, and the scream the duck made was like music to his ears - loud enough to be heard even into the hallway. Not that anyone would dare come to his rescue, even if they heard it. 

The screaming trickled off into sharp gasps for air as the little bird lost consciousness, giving into the darkness that brought, at last, a small measure of peace. 

* * *

“Drake? Drake!” 

“Huh, what?” The omega’s eyes shot open, and he quickly became aware of the villains surrounding him. Root-like arms were holding him close even as leafy hands soothed over his face and chest. 

“It’s okay, sweetie. We’ve got you,” Bushroot whispered gently from behind him. Liquidator stood guard on the other side of the mattress, while Megavolt paced back and forth at the end of the bed. Another quick glance around the room revealed the jester of the group lingering in the doorway, an unamused frown on his bill. 

“We heard you screaming,” Megavolt announced, waving his hands erratically. “We thought you were being murdered.” 

“S-sorry for waking you. Just a nightmare,” Drake grumbled, unconsciously cradling his broken arm. A watery hand touched the underside of his bill, tilting his head up to meet Liquidator’s dark eyes. 

“A nightmare or a memory?” the water dog asked, his tone making it clear that he thought it was the latter. 

Drake pulled away, his gaze dropping to the blankets in his lap. “Rather the same thing when it involves Taurus Bulba,” he finally answered. “It’s late. You should all get some rest. I’ll be fine.” 

“If you’re sure…” Megavolt slowly made his way back to the door, glancing back over his shoulder uncertainly. The mutant villains didn’t follow him. 

“I think this calls for a sleepover,” Bushroot insisted. “Buddy and I will stay to keep those nightmares away.” 

“You really don’t have to…” But Bushroot was already cuddling him close, pulling the covers over both their bodies. It was a strangely pleasant experience, being held by someone who wasn’t planning to harm or molest him when he dropped his guard. “Thanks…” 

“I’ll be right back,” Liquidator promised, surging past Megavolt and Quackerjack who were now standing outside the door. 

“Let’s go, sparky,” the jester snapped, tugging his alpha mate into the next room that he’d claimed as his own. 

“Don’t call me sparky,” the rodent grumbled, his voice lacking conviction as the door slammed shut behind them. 

In minutes, the water dog was back with a small kiddie pool, which he surged into once he’d set it next to the mattress. “There we go. Now you have nothing to fear. Taurus Bulba can’t get you while we’re around.” 

Drake couldn't help smiling at the protectiveness his former enemies were showing him. If they knew who he really was, they’d have taken him out the first chance they had. Drake was dreading the day when his secrets were laid bare before them. But until then, he’d take the comfort they offered, even if it came with a heavy dose of guilt. 


	8. Questions Leading Nowhere

Why would a rich and influential businessman like Taurus Bulba be so eager to mate with an average, middle-aged omega? It was the question that continued to plague Bushroot’s mind, even as he helped the petite duck make dinner. Not that Drake wasn’t adorable, but he’d been in his early 30’s when Bulba had fixated on him. Most alphas would have been focused on courting a much  _ younger _ omega. 

“Drake, was Taurus Bulba after Gosalyn? In… in a bad way?” Bushroot asked hesitantly. 

“What?” The omega froze to stare at him in amazement. “No! Goodness, no. Bulba is an asshole, but he’s not attracted to kids.” 

Bushroot let out a sigh of relief. Well, that was one theory down. 

“Prison sentence or no, I would have killed him before he could lay a hand on her,” Drake commented, setting a pot on the stove. As he wiped his hands on a tea towel, he asked, “What made you think he would do something like that?” 

“Oh, um… We’ve all been wondering why someone like Taurus Bulba would go through the trouble of forcing you into marriage. He’s a millionaire. Plenty of omegas would have mated with him for that fact alone. He could have married a celebrity or a high class debutant...” 

Drake snorted in wry amusement. “Instead, he chose a middle-class, old bachelor, like me.” 

“That wasn’t what I mean,” the plant duck tried to explain. 

The omega waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m not offended. As for why Bulba chose me…” Drake paused to touch his broken arm. “It’s complicated. Do we have to talk about this now?” 

“No, I suppose not,” Bushroot sighed, turning back to the vegetables he was slicing for the stew. If it wasn’t for the omega, he wouldn’t even be in the kitchen. It wasn’t like him or Buddy needed to eat actual food anymore. But he liked knowing the little duck was well fed and healthy. Even if it meant growing and slicing his own vegetables. 

* * *

“Drake?” 

“Yes?” Drake glanced up from his novel to see Megavolt wringing his hands, his gaze shifting from side to side. “What’s wrong, Elmo?” 

The rodent’s eyes snapped back to him, and he blurted out, “Did you ever date Darkwing Duck?” 

Drake felt his jaw drop as he gaped at the other man in shock. A tickle rose up inside of him, until it burst out as peals of lighthearted laughter. Across the room, Liquidator and Bushroot glanced up from their work, curious about the omega’s amusement. 

“No. Goodness, no. I can promise you that I never dated Darkwing Duck,” Drake snorted, covering his mouth as he tried to hold in his laughter. 

“But you knew him, didn’t you?” Bushroot asked, approaching them. 

Drake felt his giggles trail off as the seriousness of the question claimed his mind. He glanced away, his fingers plucking at his shirt. “It doesn’t matter now. Darkwing Duck is gone.” 

“Wait… Does this mean you know Darkwing Duck’s identity?” Megavolt wondered aloud. 

The omega frowned, his brow furrowing further. In one swift movement, he stood from the chair, and grabbed his cane. “Sorry, guys. I can’t talk about this.” 

“Wait!” the plant duck rushed over, placing a tender hand on his uninjured arm. The omega glanced up at him curiously. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to upset you. We don’t have to talk about… him.” 

The omega’s eyes softened, and he reached out to pat Bushroot’s hand. “I’d appreciate that, Reggie.”

* * *

After dinner that evening, Megavolt pulled out a pack of cards he’d stolen during their last raid. And then Drake proceeded to trounce them all in a game of Rummy 500. It seemed that the omega was finally getting his energy back. 

“Good thing we weren’t playing poker,” Megavolt grumbled at the end of the game as he gathered up the cards. 

“Poker is all about knowing how to read your opponents. I used to be pretty good at it, though I haven’t played in years.” Drake frowned, before admitting, “Bulba hated losing, and he certainly wasn’t about to let an  _ ‘omega’ _ show him up at the casino.”

“Doesn’t matter what gender your opponent is, as long as they know how to bluff, and when to fold. I’m a pretty good poker player myself,” Liquidator mused, resting his chin on his hand. His dark eyes focused on the pink-shirted duck across the table. “We should definitely make it our game of choice next time.” 

“But what would we bet? The raids haven’t been that lucrative, and it’s not like we can rob a bank nowadays,” Bushroot reminded them. 

“The raids have been fine,” Quackerjack snapped. 

“We could play strip poker,” Megavolt commented offhand, as he slid the cards back into the box. As if suddenly realizing the implication of his words, he spun around. “I mean… not that I’m saying we have to or anything. We wouldn’t take advantage of the situation, Drake…” 

The omega only seemed amused at the suggestion. “Oh, I don’t think it was a bad suggestion, but…” Dark eyes trailed down the rodent’s slim body, eyeing his clothing and insulated boots. “I’m afraid you would be the one at a disadvantage. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m  _ very _ good at reading people.” The omega slid out of his seat, and circled the table, tugging Megavolt by the collar to get him to lean closer. “And I bet I could have you in your knickers by the end of the game. We could even play for…” The remainder of his words were lost to the rest of the group, but they made the rat’s whiskers light up in surprise. 

“You wouldn’t!” Megavolt squeaked, his cheeks heating up. 

Drake simply smiled, and collected his cane. “Might be fun - as long as it was fully consensual, that is.” 

Liquidator’s head snapped around to stare at Megavolt. “What did he say?” 

“Oh, um… well…” the rodent stuttered, his gaze flickering around the room. 

“Guess we’ll have to play poker, and see,” the omega answered mysteriously. “Bushroot, can you give me a hand up to my room?” 

“Sure can, Drake.” The beta rushed to his side, offering his arm. As they made their way toward the door, the plant duck was sure he heard Quackerjack comment, “He’s an omega. He probably offered to bet sexual favors.” 

“Jack!” 

“Really?”

Bushroot rolled his eyes. Honestly, alphas tended to have a one-track mind. Drake would never suggest something lewd like that. 

“Reggie?” 

The plant duck glanced down. “Yes, Drake?” 

Drake paused in the doorway. “As far as I’m aware, the only omega Darkwing Duck dated was Morgana Macawber. To be honest, I don’t think omegas were his type.” There was a secretive smile on the omega’s face as he said this. 

“Oooh! Hear that, Jack? You may have had a chance!” Megavolt exclaimed. 

“Shut up, sparky!” 

* * *

Quackerjack preferred alphas, a fact that Drake had known for quite some time. His relationship with Megavolt wasn’t a secret. More specifically, Megavolt had all but outed him as having a crush on Darkwing Duck. Which meant that Jack had a crush on HIM! 

Drake groaned, and pulled the spare pillow up to cover his blushing face. Quackerjack had a crush on HIS alter ego. He’d be so disappointed to find out that Darkwing was an omega… and he certainly wouldn’t be impressed to find out that Drake was the one he’d had a crush on. The jester was not shy about his opinion of omegas, or Drake in general. The man barely tolerated having him around. 

Drake leaned back on the mattress, holding his spare pillow to his chest. “I hope I’m not interfering in his relationship with Megavolt.” 


	9. The Jester Laments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!
> 
> Note: Angsty. Suggestion of abuse. Lament: To regret something strongly.

Now all three of his lackeys were falling for the omega’s charms, Quackjack growled to himself. The others were practically swarming around the ivory-feathered duck at the table. 

“You’re a little warm today, Drake,” said Bushroot, after laying a leafy hand on the omega’s forehead. “And your mating bites are already fading.” 

“Yeah… I may be going into heat again. Sorry for the trouble,” Drake sighed. 

How many heats was this omega annoyance going to have? Even if they were likely a side effect of that horrible drug Bulba forced on him, it was still frustrating to deal with. And yes, Quackerjack didn’t have to like omegas to be disgusted by someone inventing a way to use their biology against them. 

“I thought omegas were only supposed to have a few heats a year. My ex-wife is a beta, so I never had to be concerned about those kinds of things,” Liquidator admitted. 

Bushroot took a step back. “It may be caused by a withdrawal from that drug you mentioned. Unfortunately, without a sample of it, and a proper lab, I won’t be able to analyze it. We can’t be sure if these continual heats are short term or not.” 

“I know,” Drake admitted. “I really appreciate everything you guys are doing to help me.” 

“Hey, since Bushroot and Liquidator helped you out the last time, I, uh, wouldn’t mind helping you out this time. If you’re interested, that is,” Megavolt offered, rubbing the back of his own neck awkwardly. 

Quackerjack’s eyes narrowed at the group. Was the omega trying to build a villain harem? 

“I wouldn’t mind, at all,” said the omega, smiling at the men surrounding him. 

The toymaker glanced over at where Megavolt was now fussing over the gaunt-faced bird, acting sweeter than a villain had any right to be. That settled it. If the duck was going into heat, HE’D deal with it himself. After all, it wasn’t like he actually had an interest in soft-bodied, little omegas. At least he could trust himself to get the job done without getting attached. 

* * *

“I need all three of you on this raid. Liquidator will take the lead,” the jester informed them the following day. 

“What about you, Jack?” Megavolt asked, but his gaze drifted past the jester, fixed on the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. The omega’s delicate scent was gently wafting down toward them as he began to enter his heat cycle for the third time that month. 

“Someone has to take care of the omega’s needs.” Quackerjack took a step forward, cutting off his mate’s oncoming protests by snagging him by the collar, and pulling him closer until they were face to face. “And I can’t trust the three of you not to get attached.” 

“You sure you’ll be alright?” Bushroot asked curiously. 

“How hard can it be? Now get going!” the jester yelled, shoving the rodent away from him. Liquidator slipped out the door, holding it open for Bushroot to follow. Megavolt took a few steps, and then paused. He turned to glance at his alpha mate, his tail drooping. 

“Just… promise you’ll take care of him. He’s been through a lot,” the electrical villain stated softly. 

Quackerjack waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. I promise not to be too rough with him.” 

Megavolt raised a brow behind his blue glasses, and grumbled something inaudible under his breath as he shut the door behind him. His departure was followed by a loud moan that echoed from the second floor. “Guess I’d better get this over with,” the toymaker grumbled to himself.

* * *

The duck cried out under him, sucking in a sharp breath as Quackerjack pressed him down against the blankets. It wasn’t like this actually mattered to him. He was just dealing with the omega’s drug-induced heat cycle. Any alpha could satisfy him in this state. Avoiding the omega’s broken arm, which was still in a sling across his chest, the jester grabbed his free wrist, and held it down above his head. That would keep him still… 

Eyes snapping open in a panic, the omega buckled against him, his movements becoming erratic. What the hell? The smaller duck surged up at him, snapping his teeth deep into the crook of Quackerjack’s neck. Omegas didn’t bite - they were supposed to lay back and let themselves be taken. The little duck was fighting against him with all the fire of an alpha trying to get the upper hand. 

Jack froze, barely registering the moment the smaller duck fell back against the bedsheets, his bill showing traces of the toymaker’s blood. The omega’s form blurred in his mind, replaced by the purple-masked Darkwing Duck. Darkwing Duck gasping beneath him, struggling to shove him off. Their mating would be fierce, a struggle for dominance between alpha lovers. Quackjack would get the upper hand, and bite him first, proving himself the more virile alpha. Unable to resist, the jester surged forward, his teeth clamping down in a mating bite. 

Jack came back to his senses as the copper tang of blood hit his tongue. The image of his nemesis vanished, replaced by the soft, trembling form beneath him - the little omega he was pinning down. The toymaker jolted back, taking in the bloody mating mark that ravaged the other duck’s neck. Dark eyes rose to watch him as he stumbled out of the bed like it was on fire. 

“Q-Quackerjack?” the omega whispered, pushing himself up. 

The villain in question didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. Shoving his feet into his pants, he frantically pulled them up. He didn’t even bother putting on the rest of his clothing, he just gathered it up, and raced out of the room. The omega would be fine. He was strong enough to handle a little… The word  **ABUSE** flickered though his mind, but it made him sick to his stomach. Even in the darkness, he’d seen the bruises he’d left on the other duck’s wrist. He just… he couldn’t think of that right now. 

* * *

“We’re back!” Megavolt announced as they slid open the hideaway door. 

“Welcome back,” Drake greeted them softly, wrapped in his black robe. Omegas deserved soft things, and seeing the ivory duck clad in the plush black robe made them all feel better. 

Megavolt’s attention shifted to his alpha mate. Quackerjack was hunched over on the sofa, watching the news. 

“Did anything happen while we were gone?” Bushroot asked, setting the bags they’d gathered aside. 

“Nothing much,” the omega answered, but he unconsciously rubbed the now-visible bandages that were wrapped around his neck. 

The plant duck rushed across the room to get a better look at the omega’s injuries. “What happened? Did you accidentally cut yourself?”

“No, no. I’m fine, really,” Drake protested, but Bushroot grabbed his free hand the moment he saw the darker marks standing out through his wrist feathers. 

“Are those bruises?” Liquidator asked, slipping up behind the omega, trapping him between them. 

“Quackerjack!” Megavolt yelled, storming over to his alpha lover. “You said you’d take care of him.” 

The jester flinched, replying with a sharp, “He bit me first!” He wanted to look over at the omega, wanted to check to make sure he was alright, but he couldn’t. He’d left the duck ointment and bandages, and then avoided him the rest of the time they were alone in the hideout together. 

“That’s true,” Drake sighed. He tugged his hand out of Bushroot’s grip, and slowly unwound the bandages to reveal the mark on his neck. “I got caught up in a bad memory, and bit him. I’m sorry if I hurt you, Jack.” 

Quackerjack froze. Jack was what Megavolt called him. The omega couldn’t just presume they were on a familiar basis. It wasn’t like they were actually mates. It wasn’t like the Fearsome Four had rescued him, or taken him in, or helped with his heats. It wasn’t like they’d claimed him as their own. The lies stung as sharply as the mark that still throbbed on his own neck. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack answered, gruffly. “Besides, you marked up my neck pretty well yourself.” 

“He liked it!” a little voice commented. All eyes went to the metal banana doll in Quackerjack’s lap. The doll that rarely spoke. 

“Shut up,” Jack grumbled, shoving his hand over the doll’s mouth. He heard a chuckle from across the room, and then short footsteps approaching. The swish of a robe caught his eye, but he averted his gaze as the omega stopped next to the couch. 

“You must be the new Mr. Banana Brain,” Drake said softly, squatting down to get a better look at the doll. “Are you keeping Jack company?” 

“Sure am, toots!” 

The omega laughed again, the sound tickling up the toymaker’s spine. Good god, what was wrong with him? Having a boner for a fierce alpha like Darkwing Duck was one thing, but taking a liking to an omega just because they had a similar body type? When did he turn straight?

“Well, I’m glad he has a friend he can count on. I hope you’ll join us for dinner,” Drake said, wincing as he stood back up. 

“Here’s your cane,” Megavolt offered, handing the smaller man his much-needed tool. 

“Thanks. My hip is acting up today. Sometimes I forget that I’m not as young as I used to be,” Drake sighed, following Megavolt toward the small kitchen. 

“Don’t be silly. You’re still a delicate bloom,” Bushroot chimed in.

“Delicate bloom? Hah! My daughter wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if she heard you call me that.”

And that was it. Somehow the all-villain group had become the Fearsome Four and their omega, Quackjack mused to himself. He studied the puppet in his hands - a metallic creature crafted from wires and hate. A sadness fell over him. He missed his old, light-hearted Mr. Banana Brain. 

* * *

_ (Bonus: Dinner) _

“So, on the plus side, you didn’t almost burn down the hideout again,” Bushroot joked, even as he helped hand out the plates. 

“Are you saying I’m getting better at cooking,” Drake shot back with an amused grin on his face. 

“Haven’t poisoned us yet, and this stirfry is better than anything I’ve ever made,” Megavolt said, nudging Jack in the side. 

“It’s fine,” Quackerjack muttered. When the omega smiled at him, he was amazed at how nice it felt. It was hard to believe he’d confused Drake with Darkwing Dork. The omega was the polar opposite of the arrogant vigilante, even if they had a similar physique. He held back a chuckle at the thought of the delicate bird donning a purple mask and cape to fight crime. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no plans for a fivesome, really. Drake is either with them one-on-one or joins their couple as a third. Either way, he’s been adopted by the group as THEIR omega to protect and care for. 
> 
> Physical genders and biological genders are interesting to explore in an alpha/beta/omega universe. Quackerjack has a lot of feelings to sort through.


	10. Short and Sweet

“Our heists have gotten easier. It’s like the CrimeBots are avoiding us,” Megavolt commented the following day, while he, Quackerjack and Drake were preparing to have breakfast in the small break room. 

“Avoiding you?” Drake cocked his head to the side, considering the idea. With a gasp, he rose from his chair, and began to pace back and forth. “Of course! That makes perfect sense. He thinks you’re ruthless villains, and since you haven’t… well, let me go, he likely thinks the worst. That jerk!” The omega settled back in his chair with a loud huff. 

“What? Does he think we’re torturing you or something?” the electrical rodent asked, setting his cereal bowl down on the table. 

“Probably,” Drake replied. 

“That cad! We’d never hurt an omega like that,” snarled Megavolt. He slouched into his chair across from the omega. 

“I know. You’ve all been very sweet.” Drake leaned over the table to press a kiss to the tip of the rodent’s nose. The other man’s anger quickly turned to delighted embarrassment as Drake sat back down. “Even you, Quackerjack,” the omega called over his shoulder. 

“Leave me out of this!” the jester grumbled loudly from where he was peering intently into the fridge. 

Drake shook his head, chuckling under his breath. His boys were just the sweetest… A tinge of red painted his cheeks at the thought. Yes, he liked the thought of them being  _ his _ boys. His mates. All four of them. 

“What’s going on? You’re looking a little flustered, Drake.” Bushroot had slipped into the room, and was now pressing a leafy hand to the omega’s forehead, clearly concerned. 

“I was just… thinking of how much I appreciate all of you,” Drake admitted. Reaching up to wrap his arms around the plant duck’s neck, he gently pulled him down for a soft kiss. 

“Act now, and get two supervillains for the price of one!” Liquidator announced, sliding into the seat next to the shorter duck. 

“Don’t you mean four?” Drake purred, giving in to the temptation to flirt. 

“Naughty little omega,” the watery villain chuckled, pulling him closer for a light kiss on the cheek. 

Bushroot shook his head in amusement at the display, and retreated to the stove to begin heating water for the omega’s morning tea. He and Liquidator hadn’t intended to share the omega’s affections for the long run, but it seemed that Drake had worked his way into their collective hearts. He just hoped things wouldn’t change when they finally defeated Taurus Bulba. 


	11. Drake's First Robbery

“Alright, tonight we’re all going on a raid,” Quackerjack announced, once he’d summoned the entire group into the break room. Naturally, the omega had decided to join them at the table. Oh well, it wasn’t like he was invited...

“Great! I’m coming, too,” Drake said, standing up from his chair. The baffled villains turned to stare at him. 

“Drake…” Bushroot began softly. 

“No, you’re not,” interrupted Quackerjack, frowning deeply. 

“Yes, I am,” Drake repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, you’re not!” insisted the jester.

“YES, I am!” Drake snapped, his eyes narrowing as he glared back at Quackerjack.

“You could get hurt,” Megavolt interjected, glancing nervously between the two of them. 

“You  _ agreed  _ that the CrimeBots are avoiding a confrontation with you. I’d be safer  _ with _ you. Besides, I’m going stir crazy in here. I need to stretch my legs, and get some fresh air,” explained the shorter duck. 

“People will see you. Aren’t you worried that Bulba will try to get you back,” Bushroot asked, his voice tinged with concern. 

The omega paused, uneasy with the thought of the brutish alpha recapturing him. “T-then I’ll go in disguise. So, whose clothes am I borrowing?” 

The plant mutant shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t look at us. Buddy and I don’t wear clothes. Unless you want me to grow you an outfit.”

“I guess you could try something of mine,” said Megavolt, scratching the tip of his nose as he led Drake upstairs to his shared bedroom with Quackerjack. 

* * *

“It’s too tight,” the duck complained, stepping out of the rat’s spare pair of pants. “I think it’s time to go on a diet.” 

“But you’re such a huggable size,” said Megavolt, reclaiming his pants. As he folded the clothing, the duck slipped past him to rummage through the small office closet that was filled with a mixture of clothing from the room’s occupants, as well as some of Quackerjack’s toys. He finally emerged with a red and black, one piece costume that had been hiding at the very bottom of the pile. 

“What is this?” 

Megavolt took a quick glance at the item. “Quackerjack stole that a while ago from a halloween store. I think he wanted me to dress up in it, but it’s a few sizes too big.” 

Drake held out the costume, admiring the glossy fabric. “It’s better than nothing, and it will definitely distract people from my true identity. Did it come with a hat, too?” 

Megavolt sank to his knees, and began to search. Behind him, the omega slid his feet into the legs of the costume, and pulled it on. By the time the rodent turned around, hat in hand, Drake was fully dressed. 

The duck spun around, gesturing to the zipper at the base of his spine. “Can you zip the back for me?” 

The electric villain reached out to trail his long fingers appreciatively over the curve of the omega’s back, before sliding the zipper up his spine. “There. All done,” Megavolt whispered, unable to resist pressing a kiss to the omega’s ivory cheek. “Your hat, my queen!” He performed an elaborate bow, holding out the red and black hat for the other man to take. 

“Awe, you’re sweet, Elmo,” Drake chuckled, trying on the hat. He didn’t seem to notice the spark that flickered to the tip of Megavolt’s whiskers at the use of his civilian name. The hat’s long fabric sides draped his cheeks as he clasped it beneath his chin. 

“I can’t wait to see Jack’s reaction,” the rodent murmured, holding open the door as the omega scooped up his cane. A piece of black fabric that had fallen to the floor caught his attention. “Did you want her mask, too?” 

Drake glanced over his shoulder, his gaze narrowing on the thin mask. “Not this time. I’m sure it will be fine. No one is going to suspect Drake Bulba of aiding in a robbery.” His face twisted into a grimace the moment he mentioned his husband’s last name. 

“Don’t worry. You’ll always be Drake Mallard to us,” Megavolt assured him as they stepped into the hallway. 

“Thanks. Now, let’s go see Mr. J!” Drake answered cheerfully.

* * *

Three supervillains glanced up as Megavolt sauntered down the stairs next to the elaborately-clothed omega. The duck was dressed from head to toe in red and black. The costume sported a familiar diamond motif, a white collar, and white pompoms at the ends of his jester-like hat. 

“Well, hello, Harley Quinn!” Liquidator announced with a low whistle. 

“Not that you don’t look lovely, Drake, but I thought we were trying to keep you hidden,” said Bushroot, circling the omega once he’d reached the ground level. 

“It was the only outfit that fit. And I doubt anyone is going to suspect mild-mannered Drake Mallard to be joining the Fearsome Four for a robbery,” said Drake, tugging one of the hat’s long floppy ends. “We already have a Mr. J,” the omega chuckled, glancing at Quackerjack who had turned away from them the moment he caught sight of Drake’s costume - but not before Drake caught a glimpse of his ruby cheeks. “All I need now is my Poison Ivy. Do we know anyone who is pretty, and can manipulate plants,” Drake teased, giving the mutant next to him a wink. 

“Oh my…” Bushroot buried his blushing face in his hands. 

“Alright, enough chatter!” Quackerjack snapped over his shoulder. “We’ve got a heist to pull. Let’s get this show on the road!” 

“You heard him,” Liquidator sighed, pacing across the warehouse with the others following at a steady pace. 

“You haven’t even commented on Drake’s costume,” Megavolt whined nasally, once he’d caught up to Quackerjack. “I thought you had a thing for Harley Quinn - even if she is an omega.” 

“I’ve literally seen you kiss lightbulbs. Having a crush on a crazy dove like her isn’t as weird as your thing. Besides, half the time she acted like an alpha,” Quackerjack grumbled back. 

“Whatever you say, Mr. J,” Megavolt teased. He leaned over to whisper in his mate’s ear as the others locked the door behind them. “I bet Drake would role-play with you, if you asked him nicely.” As expected, the jester’s cheeks turned a deeper crimson at the thought. Without a word, Quackerjack flung himself into the front passenger seat of the van, his fingers tapping impatiently on his knees as he waited for the others to pile in. 

* * *

“So, where are we going?” the omega asked cheerfully, once they were all seated in the inconspicuous white van they used for heists. 

“Duckea,” Quackerjack stated, crossing his arms over his chest. Megavolt revved the engine, and pulled onto the empty road. 

Drake fixed his attention on the leader of their little group. “We’re robbing a furniture store?” 

“I thought we were…” Megavolt began to say, only to be cut off when Quackerjack glared at him. “Nevermind.” 

Bushroot and Liquidator, who sat on either side of Drake, were quick to nod enthusiastically. “Yes, that was the plan.” 

The omega sagged back in his seat. “Sure it was,” he grumbled. 

“So, are you actually going to steal something, Drake?” the rodent asked, as they pulled onto the highway. 

The smaller duck shook his head. “No. I don’t steal.” He still had his hero code, after all. 

Quackerjack half turned in his seat. “Then why are you coming along?” 

“To stretch my legs,” the omega replied firmly. “And for moral support.” He glanced out the window, delighted at being out of the stuffy warehouse for even a single evening. Before long, the van pulled into the Duckea parking lot. The giant blue furniture warehouse loomed over them. Once they found a nearly hidden place to park, Drake allowed Liquidator to help him out of the van, and clutched his cane close. 

“We’ll break in through the employee entrance,” Megavolt whispered, waving for them to follow him. They silently crept after him. It didn’t take long to jimmy the locks open, allowing the Fearsome Four and their omega into the building. 

* * *

“So, what are we looking for?” Drake asked, glancing around the staff area they’d let themselves into. 

“Yeah, Quackerjack, what ARE we looking for?” Megavolt asked, fixing his gaze on his alpha mate. 

“You and I are heading for the tool section. Bushroot and Liquidator can… steal blankets and stuff,” the jester said, waving a hand at the rest of the group. “They can take the omega with them.” 

“Drake’s with us,” the mutants cheered. 

“Bedroom makeover time!” said Bushroot, steering Drake toward the staircase. 

Megavolt and Quackerjack watched them ascend the steps. The omega paused halfway up, and glanced over his shoulder at them. A frown crossed his lips, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he just shook his head, and followed the other two villains. 

“Let’s go,” the jester grumbled, leading his partner through the main floor entrance. 

* * *

Megavolt eyed the shelves and displays as they made their way through different sections, searching for the tools. Although, he was pretty sure Duckea didn’t even carry many tools - unless they were planning to hang pictures or build a dresser. Frankly, it would have been more lucrative to rob a Goose Depot or a Dogmart. 

“You know, Drake isn’t an idiot. He knows you switched the raid locations on him,” Megavolt commented, as they entered the Wall Decoration section.

“The last thing we need is to get caught, because he’s slowing us down,” Quackerjack griped, shoving his hands deep into his baggy pockets. The other alpha came to a stop, his brows rising behind his thick blue glasses. 

“Alright, Jack - What is going on with you? You’ve been acting off since Drake’s last heat. The one  _ you _ insisted on taking care of,” Megavolt told him. 

The jester glanced away, catching sight of his own face reflected in the mirrors. “Nothing’s going on, Elmo. There's just something familiar about him - something I can't quite put my finger on.” The mystery was beginning to plague his sleep. It was as if the omega was living a double-life, and his subconscious had it all figured out. Sadly, whatever revelations came to him in dreams were forgotten the moment he awoke. “It’s hard to explain. It’s just… He’s too easy.” 

“Jack!” 

“Get your mind out of the gutter, I didn’t mean it like that. Drake is too comfortable with us. He wasn’t even afraid of us when we first kidnapped him. We’re the Fearsome Four!” The jester spread his arms wide, before dropping them at his sides. “Everyone is afraid of us,” he sighed. “Everyone, except for him.” 

“We all know who he’s really afraid of,” Megavolt reminded him softly. “It wouldn’t surprise me if his reason for living was to keep his daughter safe. Without her, I doubt he would have lasted as long as he did.” The rodent rubbed the back of his neck, glancing up at the ceiling. “Drake hasn’t said a word about how he broke his arm, or injured his hip. I’m pretty sure Bulba had something to do with his injuries - he just won’t talk about it. Can’t you try to cut him some slack from here on out?” 

Quackerjack’s fingers itched for something to hold on to. Something soft and silly. His mind drifted into the past, to a time when a familiar banana yellow face used to smile back at him with a goofy grin. Things were always so much easier with Mr. Banana Brain on hand to voice his hidden thoughts. Not the new Banana Brain… his true Mr. Banana Brain. 

“Jack?” 

The jester glanced down at the long fingered hand now holding his shoulder. His lip quirked up wryly. He could always count on his alpha mate to support him, even when he wasn’t in the right frame of mind. “Alright. I’ll go easy on him,” Quackerjack mumbled. “Besides, he’s obviously crazy if he can stand spending time with us.” 

“Whatever you say, Jack,” Megavolt laughed, patting his shoulder. “Guess we’d better get those tools.” 

* * *

Seriously, they were robbing a Duckea? Drake shook his head, and tried to keep a mental count of what they were stealing. He’d find a way to pay them back later. Might as well put Bulba’s dirty money to good use. 

Bushroot waved to him from where he and Liquidator were gathering up a white and purple patterned comforter that they’d seen him eyeing. It wasn’t his fault that purple kept catching his eye. Bulba had refused to let him wear or decorate with purple - yet another tactic in his attempt to break the omega’s spirit. 

“What about this?” Liquidator asked, holding up a bathrobe that was nearly the same shade of purple as Darkwing’s cape. 

Drake shook his head frantically, despite the almost overwhelming urge to hold it close. Under no circumstances could he wear purple around the Fearsome Four. At least one of them would figure it out, and then his secret identity would be exposed. He wasn’t afraid that they’d kill him… in fact, he was sure they wouldn’t. But still…

In his mind, Drake watched as his lovers’ smiles turned to hate and loathing. One by one, they spun around, and stalked out of the factory they called home, slamming the door behind them. Leaving Drake alone. All alone. 

“You okay?” 

Drake felt his heart jump in his chest as Bushroot’s lanky form seemed to appear in front of his nose. “Oh, uh… yeah. Sorry, just lost in thought.” 

“If you’re sure… Buddy and I were going to head to the next section,” said the plant duck, waving a hand at where his liquid companion was waiting. 

“You two go ahead. I’ll catch up,” said Drake, forcing a smile onto his face. 

“Don’t be too long,” Bushroot whispered gently. Then he slipped away, leaving Drake to his thoughts. 

* * *

Drake soon found himself making his way, as silent as a shadow, past the beds and dressers that lined the walking path. He paused in front of a full length mirror, examining his jester-like costume in closer detail. It really did fit quite well. He twirled around, cane still in hand, imagining the colorful costume replaced by his purple suit and cape. For a moment, the image in the mirror seemed to waver, reforming into the impressive figure of Darkwing Duck. 

“I miss you,” Drake whispered aloud, reaching out to touch the reflective surface. A tear rolled down his cheek as his shoulders drooped under the weight of the years. “I miss myself.”  Head hanging low, the omega returned to the path, slowly making his way toward the childrens’ section. He could hear his lovers chatting away, filling the silence with their bubbly conversation. Drake had almost reached the vibrant, kid-friendly section when he caught sight of a small figure from the corner of his eye. He froze, his head turning slowly until his gaze landed on a strangely-familiar form. 

There, next to a garbage can, lay a yellow-faced doll with a goofy grin. “Hey, little guy. What are you doing here?” Drake picked the little banana puppet up gently with his free hand. It was a spitting image of Quackerjack’s old Mr. Banana Brain doll - except for the eye that was nearly torn off, and the smudges and dust. “I bet I could fix you right up. Sew that eye back on, and give you a good cleaning,” the omega whispered, cuddling the doll close. 

“You found one, too?” Liquidator poked his head around the corner. “There’s a whole stack of them in the kids’ area. I can get you a new one, if you want.” 

“Thanks for the offer, Buddy, but I’ve taken a liking to this one,” Drake told him. He made his way into the kids’ section where his lovers were waiting. “He just needs some TLC. Goodness knows, I used to spend enough time repairing Gosalyn’s toys. She was always so rough with them.” 

“Oh, I know. We could take one for Quackerjack,” Bushroot suggested, snagging another banana doll from the pile. “It’s much less terrifying than that new doll he carries around.” 

Drake shook his head, holding out the doll he found for them to see. “Actually, I was thinking of fixing this guy up, and gifting him to Jack. You won’t snitch on me, will you?” 

“Never,” Bushroot promised, tossing the spare doll over his shoulder, where it landed in the middle of the toy bin. 

“Salesman’s honor,” Liquidator swore, crossing his chest. The pair glanced at each other with excited smiles, before turning their wide grins on Drake. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Drake asked, pulling the doll close to his chest. 

Bushroot pressed his leafy hands to his own cheeks. “Awww, our good-hearted little thief.”

“I’m not stealing it…” Drake grimaced. Okay, he was, technically, stealing it. “They were probably throwing him out anyway, and I can always pay them back.” 

Liquidator and Bushroot exchanged a fond look. “Is there anything else you wanted?” the plant duck asked, even as the villains reclaimed their ill-gotten loot, which had been piled on the floor while they searched for more. 

“No, I… Yes, actually.” Drake snapped his fingers as a thought crossed his mind. “A small sewing kit. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. I need something to put this little Banana Brain back together.” 

“One sewing kit, coming right up!” the water mutant insisted, surging out of the room. 

Drake glanced at the blankets in Bushroot’s arms. Underneath his white and purple patterned blanket was a second one with red, yellow, and white stripes. 

“I - uh, figured that the other guys might appreciate a new blanket, too. Its colors are very circusy,” Bushroot explained, his cheeks darkening under the omega’s scrutiny. 

“That’s sweet of you, Reggie. Do you need a hand?” the duck asked. The mutant shook his head, and they followed the walkway out of the children’s area. 

* * *

“Everyone good? Did you get everything?” Megavolt called over his shoulder, even as he started the engine. 

“Yep! We’re good to go,” Bushroot replied. Drake sat next to him, his prize hidden under the blankets now piled atop his lap. 

“Good thing their alarm system was easy to bypass,” Megavolt chuckled, as they drove away. 

“What about cameras?” Drake asked curiously. He really should have considered it sooner - he was getting too complacent in his civilian life. Video evidence of their raid could cause trouble for the entire group. 

“Elmo took care of it,” Quackerjack stated, sagging back against his seat with a moody frown. 

“Five out of five villains would agree that getting caught now would put a damper in our plans,” Liquidator chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows down at the omega next to him. 

“I’m not a villain - I’m just a tag along.” Drake crossed his fingers beneath the blankets. “I didn’t even steal anything.” He heard Bushroot snort under his breath, and the watery mutant only gave him a wink. 

“I can’t believe the sun’s coming up already,” said their driver. “I can’t wait to crash for a few hours.” The others echoed his sentiments as they sped back to the warehouse. 

* * *

The following morning, a lone businessman sat behind an immense office desk, his attention shifting from his various emails to the special program open in the corner of his screen. The program displayed a map of St. Canard, and a single flashing red dot. He’d watched that little dot barely move since the kidnapping, but after checking the previous evening’s pattern, a wave of dark amusement rose up within him. 

A click of a button revealed that the dot had decided to visit the city’s only Duckea till the early morning hours, before returning to its temporary home. “Well now, it seems my little bird is making himself right at home with the scum of our city. How fitting.” Bulba leaned back in his chair, crossing his fingers together in his lap. 

“You’ve been gone long enough, Drake. When the time is right, I shall reclaim you for my own. We both know that you will not be satisfied with anything less than a truly _ powerful  _ alpha. Whether or not your new companions have discovered your secret… it hardly matters. Once you are returned to me, I will have no more use for them. Dead or imprisoned, they will be of no help to you.” 

The bull stood from his desk, and made his way to the massive window that allowed him to gaze out over the city below. “Yes, Drake - Enjoy your meager amount of freedom while it lasts. Once you return, it will be my  _ pleasure  _ to re-mold you into the omega you were born to be: obedient, docile, and eager to please your alpha in every way. 

* * *

Halfway across the city, on the seedier side of town, a certain ivory-feathered omega shivered in his sleep, pulling his new blanket up to his chin to ward off the horned, shadowy figure that seemed to loom over him. He did not wake from the realm of dreams, even as the figure disappeared, replaced by four familiar outlines that hovered around him protectively. 

* * *

**Bonus: The Gift of an Old Friend**

Drake found the jester in his workshop, which was actually a small section at the back of the main floor workroom. A dirty glass wall partially blocked the area from view, but once someone stepped through the doorway, they were greeted with the sight of a long table where blueprints and paperwork could be laid out and examined. 

Jack had cluttered the table with his tools, along with bits and pieces of everything from toys to electronics. Anything he and Megavolt could tear apart to use for their engineering projects, they did. Drake was reminded, yet again, that despite their individual quirkiness, and villainous tendencies, the two alphas were savagely smart. Before the accident that had caused his descent into electrical madness, Elmo had been poised to attend a tech university on a full scholarship. Jack, on the other hand, had once owned his own toy-making business. 

“You’re hovering,” the jester grumbled, glancing over his shoulder with a frown. 

Drake smiled weakly, embarrassed at having been caught staring. His hands tightened behind his back. “So, during our trip to Duckea… well, I… I should start by saying that I don’t agree with stealing,” the omega began awkwardly. 

Quackerjack turned to face him, leaning back against the table as he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we know. 

“Buuuuut, I saw him, and he was a bit damaged, so I fixed him up for you,” the shorter duck continued, pulling the unwrapped gift from behind his back. He’d spent the early hours of the afternoon, after sleeping most of the morning, sewing and cleaning the little doll. He was almost as good as new, even if one of his eyes was a bit lopsided, and he’d always have stitches where his arm had been torn. 

Drake held the toy out to the brightly-colored alpha. “I thought you might prefer to have your old friend back.”

Quackerjack’s eyes were wide as he stood frozen for a long moment, before his trembling hands reached out to pluck the doll from the omega’s grip. “You stole him… for me?”

Drake glanced away, his eyes darting around the room in embarrassment. “I-I’ll pay them back - someday.” 

A high-pitched laugh echoed the small space - exuberant, and entirely unexpected. The jester set the doll on the table, and then rushed forward, getting a firm grip on the omega’s waist, so he could spin him around in the air. “You’re just a little thief in the making, aren’t you?” 

“I’m glad you like him,” Drake breathed out, once his feet hit the ground. He nearly stumbled as the alpha released him, spinning around to eagerly examine his new toy. With the jester’s attention fully engaged, the omega slipped out of the partial room, a smile lingering on his bill. 


	12. True Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Place your bets for who figures out Drake's secret identity first!

It just didn’t add up. Why would a powerful businessman like Taurus Bulba waste his time forcing a mating claim on an omega who would have already been past his prime. Drake had told him about the accident in his early 20’s that had left him barren, so it wasn’t like the omega could have given Bulba any heirs. Even if he’d nearly killed Drake’s daughter, who was then rescued by Darkwing Duck, that would add up to him being obsessed with getting revenge on Darkwing himself, which was not unusual. Most villains in St. Canard were keen to take down the arrogant mallard, the Fearsome Four included. 

So why target an omega pretending to be an alpha? Why even bother with him at all? Bushroot paused, his leafy hands trembling against the tabletop as he focused on his previous conversations with the omega duck. 

Darkwing Duck had rescued Drake’s daughter… no, he’d adopted her AFTER Darkwing had rescued her from Bulba. It was obvious that Drake had met Darkwing Duck at some point in time in the past, and there was a strong chance that he knew the man’s true identity. Darkwing was an alpha vigilante with a boisterous ego, and a flare for the dramatic. A vigilante who had been missing in action since… 

Bushroot rushed to the laptop, and began a more in-depth search into the disappearance of their arch nemesis. If he was correct, then Darkwing had disappeared around the same time that Taurus Bulba had claimed Drake Mallard as a mate. Either Bulba had killed Darkwing, and hidden his body extremely well, or… 

“It doesn’t matter now,” Drake had said, when asked about his knowledge of Darkwing Duck’s identity. “Darkwing Duck is gone.” He’d refused to elaborate, and the Fearsome Four had let the matter drop. Bushroot had presumed, at the time, that his theory was correct. Drake knew Darkwing’s identity, but was willing to keep it a secret. 

“But if Darkwing was dead, Taurus Bulba wouldn’t have bothered to hide the body. He would have flaunted the vigilante’s death by displaying his corpse for all to see. He would have flaunted…” Bushroot’s mind flashed with images of Drake being given the chemical concoction that had driven him into heat, giving Taurus Bulba the chance to force a mating claim on him. Bulba had somehow convinced Drake to marry him, thus _flaunting_ his own status as the omega’s alpha to the world. 

It only made sense if… if Drake Mallard _was_ Darkwing Duck. And it explained Darkwing’s disappearance around the same time that Drake married Bulba. It also explained Bulba’s reaction to Drake’s kidnapping. Bushroot’s leafy hands clenched in anger as he recalled the amused expression on the bull’s face when Quackerjack threatened the omega’s life. Of course he hadn’t cared about the duck’s safety - he’d already had nearly a decade to _abuse_ him!

“Reggie?” 

“WHAT?!” Bushroot spun around, fixing the alpha dog with a furious glare. Liquidator took a step back, gaping at him in shock. “I’m… I’m sorry, Buddy. 

“10 out of 10 doctors agree that stress is bad for your health,” the water dog insisted, giving his mate a hopeful smile. 

Buddy was trying to lighten the mood, but Bushroot only sighed as he wrapped his arms around himself. “Hey, Buddy? What would you do if you found out you were mated to Darkwing Duck?” 

There was a tinge of red in Liquidator’s form as he surged forward, tilting the botanist’s head to the side to check his neck for marks. “No… not just me,” Bushroot tried to explain. He rubbed his forehead, and glanced away. “It’s just a theory. I can’t be sure, but it makes sense. I think - I think Drake had a secret life beyond just being an omega pretending to be an alpha.” 

Liquidator raised a brow, his lips curling up into an amused grin. “You think Drake, _our Drake_ , was a martial arts expert who dressed in a purple cape and mask to terrorize the good criminals of St. Canard?”

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds silly. But Darkwing vanished around the same time that Taurus Bulba forced Drake to be his mate. And Drake wasn’t scared of us at all, even when we first kidnapped him,” the plant duck tried to explain. 

“True,” Liquidator agreed. “But those could just be coincidences.” 

“They could be… but what if it was true?” speculated Bushroot. Watery hands pulled him close, bringing him to rest his head against his mate’s constantly flowing chest. He couldn’t tell if Buddy was angry at the news. Perhaps he just needed more time to consider the possibility. 

“Mated to Darkwing Duck? That would be something, wouldn’t it?” Liquidator finally commented, his voice tickling Bushroot’s head-petals. 

“Yeah. Should we ask him?” The plant duck tilted his head back to meet his mate’s dark eyes. 

“I’d be more concerned about Quackerjack’s reaction if your theory is correct,” the former salesman said. 

Bushroot winced. “Yeah.” Out of all four of them, the jester was likely to take the news the hardest. “Hey, didn’t Darkwing nearly kill you when you were Bud Flud?”

Liquidator grimaced at the reminder. “To be fair, I was the one dumping chemicals into the water supply. And following the accident, I became the master of all liquids! I suppose I can forgive him.” 

The plant duck snorted, and pushed away from his lover. “You’re only saying that because you want to keep getting laid in the future.” 

The water dog grinned and grabbed his mate’s hand, spinning him quickly around to dip him low. With a firm hand nestled at the base of Bushroot’s back, he leaned closer until they were nose to bill. “I must admit, I am a very _selfish_ alpha. I’m not giving up my beta or my omega without a fight. Besides, thinking about Drake in purple is definitely a turn on.” 

“We could steal him a purple dress,” Bushroot suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Or a purple blindfold,” Liquidator purred, pressing a kiss to the curve of his lover’s neck. Bushroot arched back, groaning in delight. 

“Dinner’s ready!” Drake’s voice rang through the air, stopping them in their tracks. The mutants straightened up, and linked hands as they made their way down the hall to the small breakroom that functioned as their kitchen. 

“Should we ask him tonight?” Bushroot wondered aloud, squeezing his lover’s hand for comfort. 

“Maybe we should wait a bit longer. What’s the rush?” 

* * *

The rush, it seemed, was that Megavolt chose that night to revisit his old memories. They were eating dinner when the rat began to get curious. 

“Drake?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Remember how we went to school together?” 

“Yeah,”

“You were at prom, right? I think I remember seeing you there.” Megavolt tapped the end of his fork against his chin, trying to recall the exact date. 

“...Yes, I was there,” Drake admitted calmly. His gaze flickered up from the newspaper he was reading. 

Megavolt snapped his fingers. “I tried to electrocute the students. That was the night I got my powers.” 

“And Darkwing Duck stopped you,” the omega stated, returning his attention to the newspaper. 

“Yeah! Darkwing Duck was there. It was the first time anyone had ever heard of him. You know, I fought him at our reunion, too. Weird that he showed up to the reunion. Maybe he heard that I would be there,” the electrical rodent mused aloud. 

Drake raised another forkful of roasted potatoes to his mouth. “Who knows.” 

Megavolt pulled off his blue glasses, resting them on his head as he peered across the table at their civilian omega. “We were in the same grade in high school. Were you at the reunion?” 

“... Might have been…” Drake answered vaguely. 

“Did you see his sidekick? What was his name? Lunchpad,” the rodent mused aloud. 

“Actually…” Bushroot began to say, only to be cut off. 

“Launchpad,” the omega corrected automatically. 

“Yeah, him. And the little girl that kept following him around. The little duck girl with the red pigtails, and the long t-shirts,” said the rodent, smiling as his normally-frazzled memories seemed to surge to the forefront of his brain. 

Bushroot and Liquidator exchanged a glance from their seats next to the ivory-feathered mallard. Drake’s teenage daughter had brilliant red hair, even if they’d only seen one photo of her. The description the omega gave of her certainly matched the personality of the little girl who used to follow Darkwing around. 

“What are you getting at, Megavolt?” Quackerjack snapped, glaring at the rodent next to him. 

“Nothing!” Megavolt protested. He hunched back over his plate, grumbling, “It’s just weird that Darkwing always had a little girl following him around. You’d think her parents would have been worried about her, that’s all. Hanging around with a weird alpha vigilante, and his beta sidekick, at all hours of the night...” 

The jester raised a brow. “Yeah, that is weird,” he admitted, his fingers drumming on the table as he considered his mate’s words. 

Silence seemed to envelop the room, bringing with it an intense feeling of guilt - at least for Bushroot, who felt that he was now harbouring a terrible secret. “I can’t take it anymore!” he finally announced, pushing his chair away from the table. Slamming his leafy hands down on the tabletop, he blurted out, “ “Drake, I need to know! Are you Darkwing Duck!” 

All eyes immediately focused on the plant mutant, causing him to wilt slightly under their scrutiny. 

“No,” the omega answered calmly. Setting his fork down on his still partially-full plate, he stood up from the table.

“Really? I was sure my theory made sense…” Bushroot sighed, rubbing his own arm. 

“I’m not Darkwing Duck, because Darkwing Duck no longer exists - Taurus Bulba made sure of that.” Drake crossed the room to set his dishes next to the sink, and then grabbed his cane from where it was propped up against the table. Without another word, he left the room, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor ahead of him. 

The Fearsome Four listened to their omega’s footsteps as he began to climb the stairs, clearly set on returning to his room despite the early hour. Bushroot sagged back into his seat, warily eyeing their leader who was gritting his teeth in anger as he glared at the tabletop. 

Megavolt - well, he just looked confused. “So… IS he Darkwing Duck?” 

“Yeah,” Bushroot said quietly. 

“We’re mated to Darkwing Duck?” the rodent exclaimed in amazement. 

“Seems that way,” the plant mutant began to say, only to find furious dark eyes snapping up to glare at him. 

“When did you find out?” Quackerjack snarled dangerously. 

Bushroot felt his lover’s hand grip his own under the table, offering him silent comfort and support. “This afternoon. I couldn’t be sure I was right, though. An omega pretending to be an alpha is one thing, but an omega who spends his nights as an alpha vigilante… the idea would be a comic book writer’s dream.” 

Quackerjack shoved his chair back, unconcerned as it fell to the floor with a crash. “We’ve had Darkwing Duck at our mercy _the entire time!_ ” 

“Admit it, you like him…” Mr. Banana Brain spoke up from his perch on the tabletop, his voice coming out as a high-pitched taunt. 

“Shut up,” the jester snapped at his puppet.

“Quackerjack,” Bushroot began, pushing through the nervousness building up within him. “I know we all hated Darkwing Duck - I mean, if it wasn’t for him, we’d have conquered St. Canard years ago. But then Taurus Bulba came along - claiming him, and successfully taking over the city.” They all glanced up at the ceiling, where they could hear the omega pacing back and forth across the floor. “He’s a mess. And we’re the only ones keeping him sane.”

“Sounds crazy,” Megavolt admitted aloud. “Now that we know, what do we do about it?” 

“We follow the plan, and take down Taurus Bulba. In the meantime, our little omega is going to stop pussyfooting around, and be part of this team properly,” snapped Quackerjack, leaving the banana puppet on the table as he stormed out of the room. 

The other three winced in unison as they listened to him stomp up the stairs to confront Drake. “Sooo… Drake is actually Darkwing. That’s kinda hot, actually,” Megavolt admitted, cradling his chin in his palm as he gazed across the table at his teammates. 

“As long as he doesn’t start up the ‘I am the terror who flaps in the night’ speeches,” Bushroot said. The other two let out exaggerated groans. 

“Those were the worst,” Liquidator agreed, slapping a hand to his forehead. 

“He always did have a flare for the dramatic,” Megavolt chuckled, remembering his former classmate’s enthusiasm. 

“You think he’ll agree to settle down after we finally get rid of his horrible husband?” Bushroot wondered. “It’s not like he can return to crime fighting with that hip of his.” 

“He’d better. What if he gets pregnant? We haven’t exactly been using protection,” the rodent reminded them. 

“Yeah… That won’t be an issue,” Bushroot said. “I don’t think he really wants to have a big discussion about it, but he told me a while back that he had some kind of accident that made him unable to have kids.” A door slammed shut upstairs, followed by two sets of footsteps coming down the staircase. 

“That’s tough,” Megavolt admitted, seconds before the duck in question stormed into the room, followed closely by a clearly-annoyed Quackerjack. The pair reclaimed their seats at the table, making no effort to avoid glaring at each other. 

“Explain,” Quackerjack spoke up first, waving a hand. “We’ve taken care of you this entire time. We deserve to know the truth.” 

“Technically, you kidnapped me first,” the omega grumbled in response.

“And if we hadn’t, you’d still be stuck with Bulba,” the jester snapped back.

“Come on, beautiful. Spill the beans!” said Mr. Banana Brain. 

Drake raised a brow at the puppet, before focusing on Quackerjack’s moody expression. “Beautiful?” 

The jester hunched forward in his chair, refusing to meet his eyes. “I didn’t call you that - Mr. Banana Brain did.” 

“Awwww, you do have a sweet side,” the omega chuckled pleasantly. 

“It wasn’t me!” 

“I was talking to Mr. Banana Brain - who is now my new favorite,” Drake insisted, throwing the doll a wink. 

“I think you’re beautiful,” Megavolt interrupted. Liquidator and Bushroot echoed his sentiments, making the omega blush. 

“Guys…” 

“Flirt with him later. We need answers,” Quackerjack snapped, glaring at his teammates. 

“Answers… Yes, I suppose those are due,” Drake sighed. “Taurus Bulba discovered my ruse with the alpha pheromones. So he figured that he’d kill two birds with one stone. I didn’t really have a choice in the matter after… after what he did. And I had my daughter to think about. Forcing her to leave her home, live her life on the run…” The omega shook his head sadly. “That wasn’t an option.” 

“So he blackmailed you into marrying him,” Liquidator summarized. 

Drake sighed heavily. “Pretty much. And you’ve seen how that turned out.” 

“You still have a secret lair?” Quackerjack asked suddenly. 

“Secret lair? What secret lair?” Drake replied, but his gaze had already darted away from their stares. 

“You had a secret hideout?” Megavolt exclaimed in excitement. 

Drake crossed his arms over his chest. “You had your lighthouse. Bushroot had his greenhouse…” 

“Does Bulba know where it is?” Liquidator asked, his eyes narrowing in concern. 

“I don’t think so,” said Drake. The alpha had let him keep his house, but it had always been locked and silent whenever Drake and Gosalyn visited the old neighbourhood for her playdates with Honker. Sadly, those had dwindled over the years thanks to Bulba’s insistence that ‘his daughter’ find friends befitting her now-wealthier status. Drake knew there was a small chance that Bulba had discovered the secret access to the Darkwing Tower, but an even greater chance that the alpha hadn’t even bothered to look. 

“We get to see Darkwing Duck’s secret base?” 

“I’ve always wondered where Darkwing’s hideout could be.” 

“Is it underground?” 

“Maybe it’s underwater!” 

“Fine!” Drake groaned, interrupting his mates’ excited guesses. Only Quackerjack remained stoic as he toyed with the doll in his hands, waiting rather patiently for a resolution to the request. “No point in keeping it a secret now that Darkwing Duck is retired. We’ll have to take the extra secret entrance. The others are far too obvious if Bulba happens to be keeping an eye on the streets.” 

“Can we go tonight?” Bushroot asked, clapping his leafy hands together. Liquidator and Megavolt echoed his sentiments. 

Honestly, his boys, Drake thought fondly. They radiated excitement like kids in a candy story. Quackerjack remained silent and stone-faced, a far cry from his ever-excitable past self. If the omega was being honest, he really missed the old Quackerjack. The other villains hadn’t explained his change of character, but Drake was willing to bet it had something to do with the duck they were forbidden to discuss. May Negaduck rot in whatever reality he ended up in after their final confrontation. 

An unpleasant sensation settled in the omega’s gut. Finding out that Drake was Darkwing Duck must have really hit the jester hard. He’d have to find some way to settle their differences later. 

“Drake?” 

“Huh?” The omega’s attention refocused on the other three who were waiting for an answer. “Sure. Why not.” Drake snagged his cane, and led the way out the door. To his surprise, the jester followed sullenly behind them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic, Bulba had not discovered DWD’s hideout during their initial meeting.


	13. Gosalyn Mallard to the Rescue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basing Gosalyn’s design off of the Ducktales reboot. She’s a spunky 17-year-old in this fic. Fair warning, I know very little about soccer/football.

“Isn’t it great that our football game is against Bixbee High School in St. Canard, Gosalyn? I can’t believe we’re going to be landing in less than an hour!” Adriana said, glancing at the girl next to her on the airplane. 

“Yeah, but they call it soccer over here,” the red-head commented, but her attention was on her phone where she was flipping through songs on her Waddletunes app. 

“I’ve never been to St. Canard, so I thought I’d look through the latest news articles,” the blond girl said. She clicked on a MeTube video, and squeaked in amazement. “I can’t believe St. Canard has ACTUAL supervillains. These guys robbed a Duckea. I think two of them are cosplaying the Joker and Harley Quinn, and there’s also a plant guy who might be a weird version of Poison Ivy. Oh, and water villain, and a rat…” 

“Let me see!” Gosalyn snatched the tablet from her teammate’s hand, scanning the people in the surveillance video. That was the Fearsome Four alright, but who was the Harley Quinn with a broken arm and cane? The video switched angles, and she caught a brief glimpse of the duck’s face in the corner of a mirror. The sight made her gasp. 

So that’s why she couldn’t get through to her dad. But what was he doing with the Fearsome Four? Did they know about his secret identity? “I need to borrow this for a minute,” she told her chickadee friend. 

“Don’t you have a laptop?” Adriana said, pointing to the device in Gosalyn’s shoulderbag which sat between her feet. 

“Yes,” replied Gosalyn, already searching for any news about her missing father. She decided not to mention her suspicions that Bulba had people tracking her electronics. She didn’t want to tip him off, especially given the glaring fact that he’d hidden her dad’s kidnapping from her. She scanned the article from a few weeks prior, noting the attached image that featured Drake tied to a chair with a knife held against his throat. Those villains had better not hurt him, or she’d kick their tails!

* * *

“Your dad was kidnapped? Oh, Gosalyn, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe your other father didn’t contact the school.” 

“Bulba contacted the school, alright,” Gosalyn grumbled under her breath. The Fearsome Four HAD kidnapped her dad, and Bulba had faked his ‘feelings’ during the interview. If she was right, her dad was playing the innocent omega card with the Fearsome Four. There’s no way they wouldn’t hurt him if they knew he was Darkwing Duck. Time for her to track him down, but first… she needed backup. 

“Can I borrow your phone, Adriana?” Gosalyn asked, handing the tablet back to her friend. The other girl obediently handed her a green touch phone. Being a female alpha, and the star football player at their boarding school had its advantages. Good thing she still had LP’s private number. And she’d convinced Bulba to sign her up for archery classes years ago. Quiverwing Quack would find Darkwing - no matter what. 

* * *

“Adriana, I need you to cover for me,” Gosalyn whispered to her roommate, even as she slung her bag across her back. 

“Where are you going?” the other girl asked. They’d arrived at the Goosewing Hotel only half an hour earlier, but it was already nearly 11pm. 

“I grew up in St. Canard. I’m just going to swing by my place for a few things, and then I’ll be back. I… er, want to surprise my… father,” she lied, crawling out onto the emergency staircase. “Just pretend I’m already sleeping.” 

Truth be told, she was heading to the Tower for her backup weapons. Launchpad had promised to meet her there once he was finished with his current employer’s quest. She didn’t question the oddness of Scrooge McDuck going on a quest; she had more important things to concern herself with. They needed to find the Fearsome Four, and rescue her dad BEFORE they figured out his secret identity.

“Don’t worry, dad. I’m coming for you,” Gosalyn whispered, even as she descended the metal staircase as quietly as she could. 


	14. The Return of Darkwing Duck

They pushed open the trapdoor, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Bushroot and Liquidator climbed through first, turning to help Drake up the ladder. Megavolt followed, with Quackerjack bringing up the rear. As the door in the floor shut with a bang, the Fearsome Four and their omega took in the spacious tower room. 

“What a mess,” Drake sighed. His thoughts cast back to the last time he’d stood in the tower. His past self never could have predicted that he’d be kidnapped and forcefully mated to his worst enemy. Seven years had passed without a single chance to even get close to the Darkwing Tower on his own. It was a broken shell of what it once was - a place as worn by time as Drake himself. 

A leafy hand squeezed his shoulder gently, snapping the former-vigilante out of his melancholy thoughts. “You okay, Drake?” the plant duck whispered, his voice laced with concern. 

Drake swallowed the urge to fling himself into his lover’s arms, and sob as the weight of the years threatened to overwhelm him. _No! You are Darkwing Duck. Darkwing would face this head on,_ he told himself. _Wish I had my alpha pheromones right now._ “I’m fine,” Drake whispered. He wasn’t fine, but he hoped the others wouldn’t push the issue. 

“You gonna show us around, or do we get to start snooping on our own?” Megavolt asked, breaking the stillness.

Drake couldn’t help smiling at the rat’s curiosity. “Snoop away, boys!” The group dispersed in different directions, leaving the omega standing in the center of the room, leaning heavily on his cane. 

“I found your weapons stash,” Megavolt soon declared, waving a gas gun in the air. 

“Careful! I’m pretty sure it’s still loaded,” Drake warned a moment too late. Blue smoke enveloped Megavolt and Quackerjack, leaving them coughing as they dropped the gun, and rushed to get away from the fumes. 

“I found your motorcycle,” Liquidator announced, waving a hand at the duck-faced bike. 

“The RatCatcher,” Drake mused, already wondering if it still ran like a dream. 

“Rude!” Megavolt grumbled, frowning across the room at the bike. “I happen to be a rat.” 

Drake felt his cheeks heat up. “Sorry, Elmo.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I was young when I bought her, and you were my first…” Okay, that sounded way too sexual. “My first villain! You were my first villain.” 

“Oh yeah. We were still in high school,” Megavolt said, stroking his chin as he searched through his frazzled memories. 

“I still can’t believe you had your tail handed to you by an omega in high school,” Quackerjack snorted in amusement. 

“I didn’t know he was an omega. He smelled like an alpha,” Megavolt whined. 

“I borrowed a costume that happened to have been previously worn by an alpha. I won’t lie, that was the **best** day of my life - besides the day I adopted Gosalyn, of course. Come to think of it, I didn’t even have any martial arts training at the time,” Drake said. 

“Jackpot!” Bushroot shouted, interrupting their conversation. His vine arms extended as he held up a familiar purple tando and cape. The other villains quickly abandoned their finds to gather around the portable closet. 

Shaking his head in amusement, Drake listened to his cane clacking against the concrete floor as he made his way across the room to join them. By the time he got there, three of the four villains were sporting Darkwing Duck’s infamous hat. That brought back memories, Drake chuckled to himself. The Friendly Four had been a breath of fresh air in the Negaverse, and he would have trusted no one else to guard NegaGosalyn. 

“Come on, Drake. You’ll dress up for us, won’t you?” Megavolt asked, shoving the hat into his ivory hands. 

“Oh, well, I suppose.” The omega set the hat on his head, and pulled one of his suit jackets from a nearby hook. Leaning his cane against the wall, he casually slid his arms into the sleeves, pulling the jacket over his pink dress shirt. A frown crossed his bill as he struggled, without success, to button the jacket. “Oh, come on,” Drake grumbled. “I didn’t gain that much weight.” 

“Here.” Quackerjack shoved a cotton mask into his hands, feigning an air of indifference. 

“Oh.” The omega stared at the cloth in his hands as his thumbs stroked the soft fabric. The mask was such an intrical part of Darkwing Duck’s character - a safeguard to protect his civilian identity. Drake slipped it over his eyes, tying the ends behind his head with practiced ease. When he opened his eyes once more, he found the villains staring at him in amazement. 

“It really is you,” Megavolt whispered, taking a hesitant step forward. He traced a hand over Drake’s cheek softly, as if seeing him for the first time. 

“Of course, it’s me.” Drake smiled back at them fondly. 

“Something’s different about your face…” Bushroot said, narrowing his eyes as he tried to piece together what it was that was missing. 

Drake turned to face the small mirror hanging next to the closet. Hat, mask, suit… Even without the cape, he should have been recognizable… Oh! “I haven’t put on my eyeshadow,” he realized, examining the way his normally-white eyelids stood out from beneath the mask. 

Megavolt's mouth dropped open, and he blurted out, “Hold on! Darkwing Duck wore makeup?”

“It was a LITTLE eyeshadow,” said Drake, rolling his eyes as he turned back to his lovers. 

“Such an omega,” Quackerjack huffed in amusement.

“It wasn’t like that. Purple eyeshadow just happens to pull the entire outfit together,” Drake tried to explain. His words fell on deaf ears, and he once more spun around, plucking a cape out of the closet. Even if he couldn’t button his suit, he could still attach the long purple fabric to the shoulders. 

This time, when he looked in the mirror, Darkwing Duck stared back at him. The masked mallard was the embodiment of everything Drake had once wanted to be - fierce, confident, and free from the judgement his true gender received. Darkwing Duck could strike fear into the hearts of criminals, and alpha Drake Mallard had once had the freedom to live his life as he chose to live it. 

A sudden, almost overwhelming urge came over him. Spurred on by the confidence the suit kindled in his heart, Drake pulled the cape up to his face, and turned to confront the villains behind him. 

“I am the terror who flaps in the night…” 

Exasperated groans filled the room as his lovers began to protest - loudly. “Oh, come on. My entrances were great,” Drake insisted, releasing his cape to put his hands on his hips. 

“They were the worst,” Liquidator stated, rolling his eyes. 

“Now I’m remembering all the times Darkwing Duck destroyed my lovely plants,” Bushroot grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I am the cold sore that stings your lip? How did you come up with those things?” Megavolt said, shaking his head. 

Drake drew in on himself, fiddling with the end of his cape. “Were my entrances really that bad?” 

“Of course, they were…” Megavolt felt a hard elbow hit him in the side, and turned to glare at Bushroot. The plant duck raised a brow, and silently tried to gesture to the caped crusader without making it too obvious. The rodent’s attention returned to the omega, who was now staring down at his own feet, his shoulders drooping. Oops. 

Liquidator surged forward first. “Of course not! Nine out of ten villains would agree that Darkwing Duck struck fear into the criminal underbelly of St. Canard.” 

Bushroot nodded rapidly, following his lover’s lead. “You were scary when you were mad. And you always managed to kick our butts.” 

“Kept breaking all my toys…” Quackerjack grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest with a loud huff. 

“Your speeches were very… creative,” Megavolt said, trying to find a way to brighten their omega’s mood. 

Drake frowned, glancing up at their eager faces. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it.” He unhooked his cape, and re-hung it in the closet. He slowly removed his purple tando next, stroking the wide brim. His vigilante hat held the many bittersweet memories of a life he had no hope of returning to. “I failed at protecting St. Canard…” 

“Are you insane!” Megavolt couldn’t help shouting. Bushroot and Liquidator took a quick step back, clearly startled by his outburst. Quackerjack only watched in stoic silence as the rodent stormed up to their wide-eyed omega, and took him by the shoulders. “You’re Darkwing Duck! The police could handle normal thieves and robbers, but they never stood a chance against supervillains like us. You don’t even have superpowers, but you still defeated us, and sent each of us to jail more times than I can count. And when you disappeared, the crime rate went through the roof.” Megavolt paused, struggling to find the words to say next. 

“Until Bulba’s company created the CrimeBots,” Drake whispered, glancing up at his taller lover. 

“They’re clearly not doing a good job if they conveniently look the other way when Bulba commits a crime,” interjected Bushroot. “A robot can only do what it’s _programmed_ to do.” 

“That’s true. We need to stop Bulba from taking control of the city. He’s already planning to run for mayor in the next election,” Drake told them. 

“Then the Fearsome Four will definitely need the assistance of their favorite vigilante to take him down,” announced Liquidator, striking a confident pose. 

“Please Darkwing…” Megavolt pleaded, clasping his hands together. 

“Please, please, please,” Bushroot begged.

“Babe, we’re nothing without you,” Mr. Banana Brain said. His handler merely rolled his eyes. 

“Alright, alright,” chuckled Drake. “We’re going to need weapons, and some back up. Weapons first.” He made his way over to the unlocked chest closer to one of the windows. It was a good thing he’d installed actual glass windows in the tower after adopting Gosalyn, or he’d have even more cleaning to do. The glass, at least, kept out the rain and snow. 

“Let’s see. Gas guns, gas cartridges, smoke bombs…” he said, pulling out one of the smoke bombs. 

“Hey, Drake… Is your cane supposed to be blinking?” Megavolt called across the room. He held up the wooden cane for everyone to see. In the middle of the cane, a red light was indeed blinking steadily. 

“Blinking? Why would it be…” Drake’s eyes widened as a troubling thought crossed his mind. Bulba wouldn’t have… “Quick, throw the cane into the bay…!” 

S M A S H ! ! !

Drake raised his arm to protect his face as a nearby window exploded, leaving a gaping entrance to the tower. Dust settled around his feet as he glanced up to see two massive white CrimeBots hovering a few feet away. Another robot, sleek and black, pushed itself through the hole in the wall, flying forward until it was far too close for the omega’s liking. Unlike the regular CrimeBots, with their eerie grins, this one had a large screen in the center of its chest - a screen that was flickering to life to reveal an ominously horned figure. 

“Bulba..” Drake whispered, reaching for his gas gun, only to realize, too late, that he was unarmed. Long metallic arms stretched out from the black robot’s shoulders, wrapping around his waist before he had a chance to dodge. 

“Drake!” The supervillains rushed toward the window, their eyes fixed on the captive omega in the robot’s grasp. 

“Ah, there you are, Drake. I had a feeling you’d be in the company of your villainous entourage,” Bulba drawled, casting a lazy glance at the villains who were attempting to surround him. “I wouldn’t try anything, or I might squeeze a bit too hard.” The businessman’s words were accompanied by the robotic arms beginning to constrict around Drake’s immobilized body. At the omega’s yelp of pain, the Fearsome Four drew back. 

“Let go of me!” Drake yelled. 

“All these years, and you still have trouble behaving like a normal omega,” the bull sighed. “Once you are back at the tower, I will have plenty of time to re-educate you on your role as my submissive mate.” 

“You can’t do that!” Bushroot shouted. 

“Yeah! Drake is ours now!” insisted Megavolt. “I mean, he’s still his own person, but the Fearsome Four won’t let you continue abusing him!” 

“Hah!” Bulba laughed. “The only reason your little group is still roaming the streets is because I programmed my CrimeBots to ignore you. But now that my omega is safely within my grasp…” 

“Safely?!” Drake shrieked. One of the robot's hands extended to dig into the black bot’s side compartment, pulling out a wade of black fabric. It was stuffed unceremoniously into the omega’s mouth, stifling his screams. 

“Hush, omega. The alphas are trying to have a conversation,” the businessman said.

“Sexist,” Bushroot grumbled.

“Ah yes, the flowery little beta villain. You’re barely worth my time, even _with_ your powers.” The bull’s gaze drifted to the other three villains. “Three alphas, Drake? Such a needy little thing you are. And you even revealed your old hideout. You know how I hate it when you get… ideas about returning to your former life. Crime fighting is far too dangerous for a dainty omega, like yourself.”

“Dainty! Darkwing Duck is still the fiercest vigilante in St. Canard,” Quackerjack snapped. He drew Mr. Banana Brain from his pocket, and held him in the air. 

“You’d better unhand our mate before we UNHAND you!” the doll warned ominously. 

“The Liquidator echoes that statement,” said the water dog. As the supervillains stepped closer, the black robot drew back toward the broken window. 

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” One of the robot's hands began to twirl, unfolding into a sharp dagger that pressed against Drake’s cheek. “I do wish to be reunited with my husband, but if you try to stop me, well… Darkving might have an unfortunate accident, along with this tower,” the bull warned. 

The villains froze in their spots, casting uncertain glances at each other and up at their captive lover. “Anything you’d like to add, Drake?” Bulba asked, before his normal robot hand plucked the fabric from the omega’s mouth. 

After a few choked gasps, Drake spat out, “You’d better not hurt my boys!” His attention returned to his lovers who stared helplessly up at him. “Don’t worry about me. Taking down Bulba’s criminal empire is more important!” One by one the supervillains stepped back, their expressions equally horrified at the thought of Bulba’s threat becoming a reality. 

“Don’t worry, my CrimeBots will have your pet villains safely behind bars before morning,” Bulba gloated, his deep laugh reverberating through the air as the black robot took to the skies, yanking Drake’s captive form out the window. The Fearsome Four rushed forward, only to find the way blocked by the other two CrimeBots. 

“SURRENDER - OR - BE - ELIMINATED!” the robots echoed, advancing on the villains. 

“Bushroot, Liquidator - Get the one on the left!” Quackerjack ordered. 

“Right!” the mutants yelled, springing into action. 

“Megavolt!” the jester called over his shoulder. 

“I haven’t charged up yet,” the rodent yelped, dodging a net the second CrimeBot threw at him. 

Quackerjack snarled, and launched himself forward, snatching a slinky from his pocket. With a whip-like throw, the metal toy lodged itself into the center of bot’s single wheel, wrapping around it. The robot tumbled to the ground, its body struggling to right itself. 

Seeing his chance, Megavolt raced across the room, jamming the tip of his tail into the nearest wall socket. A charge jolted through his body, rekindling his electric abilities. “We’re coming for you, Drake,” he whispered, even as he felt the electricity hum through his veins. “Wait, Drake - who’s Drake?” The rodent shook his head roughly as he pulled his tail from the socket. Across the room, his alpha mate, and mutant teammates continued to fight their battles. 

A memory fluttered through his brain, which was always more frazzled after a charge. A beautiful duck, with the prettiest ivory feathers, smiled up at him. Soft fingers stroked his cheeks as his yellow lips whispered his name. “Elmo…” 

“Drake! That’s right, Drake is our omega. Drake is Darkwing Duck, and we need to rescue him,” Megavolt reminded himself, pressing a hand to his aching forehead. 

“Megavolt!” Quackjack shouted over his shoulder, before the CrimeBot he was fighting shoved him to the ground. 

The rodent sprang into action, rushing back to his mate’s side. Grabbing one of the bot’s arms, he let loose a furious jolt of electricity through his fingertips. The robot’s wheel spun in reverse, pulling away even as it’s circuits began to sizzle. It was damaged, but not out of the game yet. 

Keeping half his attention on the bot, Megavolt leaned down to help his alpha mate to his feet. “We need to finish this quickly. Who knows what Bulba is doing now that he has Drake back in his clutches.” 

“Darkwing will need to take care of himself for now,” the jester snapped. 

“Jack…” Megavolt’s nose twitched as an arrow flew past him, inches from his face, to bury itself in the CrimeBot’s Quackwerks logo. Several more arrows followed in quick succession, hitting other vital components. The robot pitched back, landing on the stone floor in a sparking heap. 

“Arrows?” Quackerjack and Megavolt echoed in unison, blinking at each other in shock. Spinning around, they spotted a girl with flame red hair a few feet away, reloading her crossbow. 

“Alright, scumbags…” The girl’s furious green eyes focused on the Fearsome Four as she aimed her weapon at them. “Where’s my dad?” 


	15. Villains to the Rescue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning. Things are about to get dark.

“Alright, scumbags…” The girl’s furious green eyes focused on them as she aimed her weapon at them. “Where’s my dad?” 

Megavolt opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by a wet and sparking CrimeBot collapsing next to him. The rodent jumped back, narrowly avoiding Liquidator’s flowing form as the water mutant surged out of the bot’s body. “Watch the water! I just recharged!” 

“Apologies,” Liquidator gurgled, sinking briefly into a puddle, before reforming himself. 

“Man, I’m glad that’s over,” Bushroot groaned, crossing the room toward them. The girl’s crossbow stayed on the main group, even as her gaze flickered to the plant duck’s approaching form. 

“Who is our helpful guest?” Liquidator asked, casting an amused glance at the arrows in the first CrimeBot’s chest. 

“Oh, hello there!” Bushroot waved, noticing the younger duck for the first time. “Thanks for the help, but we need to rescue Drake… Darkwing… I mean, not that Drake IS Darkwing…”

“Really, Bushroot?” Quackerjack sighed, facepalming. 

“Sorry,” the botanist said, rubbing the back of his neck as he joined their group. 

The red haired girl lowered her weapon, taking a few hesitant steps forward. “You know who Darkwing really is, don’t you?” 

“Look, kid, I know us being in Darkwing’s tower looks bad, but we’re trying to help him,” Megavolt attempted to explain. 

“You’re the Fearsome Four. You hate Darkwing Duck,” the girl reminded them. 

“Sure. I mean, we used to,” Bushroot agreed. 

“You kidnapped him! I saw the news!” the girl shouted. 

“We kidnapped Drake Mallard, because he was Bulba’s omega,” Quackerjack stated firmly, stepping forward. “In doing so, we rescued him from his abusive mate.” The jester gaze traveled down the girl’s form, taking in her runners, violet hoodie, green jersey jacket and flame-red ponytail. “But you came to Darkwing’s lair, and the first question you asked was… Where’s my dad?” 

Megavolt snapped his fingers. “Oh, I get it now. She’s the little girl with the pigtails that used to follow Darkwing around.”

Bushroot’s eyes softened. “You’re Drake’s daughter - Gosalyn. He talks about you all the time.” 

“He’s been living with us, safely, this entire time,” Liquidator interjected. 

“Yeah, right,” the girl scoffed in disbelief. “Why would **you** want to help Darkwing Duck?” 

Quackerjack groaned, pulling at the ends of his jester cap. “Argh! Because we didn’t know he  _ was  _ Darkwing Duck! All we knew was that he was an omega whose alpha was harming him. By the time we found out he was Darkwing Duck…” 

“We already cared for him,” Bushroot answered softly. He crept closer, raising his leafy hands to appear as non-threatening as possible. “And now Taurus Bulba has him again. We need to rescue him.” The plant mutant held out a hand, tentatively. “Will you help us, Gosalyn?” 

“Alright.” The teenager set the safety on her crossbow, and rested it on her shoulder. “But if I find out you’re lying, I’ll hunt all four of you down myself.”

Megavolt chuckled nervously as they approached her. “Like father, like daughter, huh?” 

“I bet he took dad back to the Quackwerks Tower,” Gosalyn mused aloud. “Do any of you have a phone?” 

“Um, I think I do.” Megavolt searched his pockets, and pulled out an old, red flip-phone. “I think I have five minutes left.” He tossed it to her, and she caught it easily. 

“We need backup,” she explained, as she began typing in an old, familiar number. “Bulba buys me the latest tech, but he monitors everything I do on it. This will keep us under the radar.” 

“Who are you calling?” asked Bushroot curiously. 

“An old friend.” A smile spread across the girl’s face as the person on the other end answered. “Launchpad, it’s me again. How far away are you?” She paused to listen. “You’re already in the Thunderquack? Good. How long until you get to the Tower? She nodded as he spoke, and then said her goodbyes before handing the phone back to Megavolt. “He’ll be here in less than 15 minutes to pick us up. We should grab some of dad’s weapons, just in case.” 

* * *

Taurus Bulba stood on the penthouse balcony, waiting for the CrimeBots to touch down with their precious cargo. “Drop him,” Bulba ordered, hands clasped behind his back as the black-armored bot did as ordered. A sharp cry came from the omega as his broken arm was jostled roughly. 

“Really, Drake, I expected better of you.” Taurus Bulba hefted his mate up by the collar, eyeing the mating bite on his neck, his unbuttoned purple jacket, and the mask over his eyes. As the duck struggled, the alpha yanked the mask off his face, glaring at the offensive fabric. “To think that you’ve been playing house with a group of supervillains… So disappointing.” 

“You practically gave me to them,” Drake protested. “And you put a tracker in my cane!” He tried to kick out at the larger man with little success. 

“And now I find you playing hero again, Darkving,” Bulba grunted, his temper rising up inside of him. Lifting his mate higher, he spun around, sending the petite omega crashing into the nearby patio furniture. The duck’s scream of pain was like a gust of calming air. Drawing in a breath, the bull regained control of his anger once more. 

The omega pushed away from the jumble of chairs he’d crashed into. Rising to his feet, his free hand rose to trace his eye, which was already beginning to swell up. “B-bastard!” 

The alpha glanced at the fabric still clutched in his other hand, and then strode across the rooftop. His disobedient mate stepped back, his eyes filling with fear as Bulba drew closer. “Come here,” the alpha ordered, reaching for the smaller male. In a last show of bravery, Drake darted to the side, but ended up stumbling to his knees as Bulba caught him by the wrist. Tugging the duck’s unbandaged arm behind his back, he tied one end of the purple mask to Drake’s wrist tightly, and then looped the other end around his bandaged arm, holding it in place with a double knot. As expected, the omega tried to pull away, only to gasp when his injured arm was jostled at the motion. 

“Why do you insist on infuriating me, Drake?” Bulba sighed. “If you would just behave like a meek and proper omega, I wouldn’t have to do these things to you.” 

“Asshole! I’m the victim here!” 

Bulba ignored him, dragging the omega into the suite, and sliding the patio door shut behind him. Dropping the duck on the couch, he removed his red blazer, folding it with care. After rolling up his white shirt-sleeves, he took hold of his omega’s collar, and hefted him into the air. “You’re in luck - I’ve drawn you a nice bath in the jacuzzi.”

* * *

There was a sinking feeling in Drake’s stomach as Bulba carried him across the suite, and into the bathroom. The jacuzzi had been ordered to fit a man of Bulba’s immense size. Drake could barely stand up in it, and usually ended up standing on the seats just to keep his head above water. The moment he caught sight of the water, filled nearly to the brim, Drake knew what his ‘husband’ intended to do. 

“What is wrong with you?” the omega barely managed to spit out, before he was shoved into the tub, clothing and all. He sputtered to the surface, churning his legs to keep his face above water as best he could with his arms tied. Bulba stared back at him, cold and detached. Apprehension surged up Drake’s spine as the larger man stepped closer, reaching out a single, massive hand. A moment later, he found himself underwater, the alpha’s hand gripping his neck with bruising force. 

_ I’m going to die here,  _ Drake realized, his lungs aching for breath.  _ I’m going to die here, and Gosalyn will be at his mercy. And my boys… my fabulous four… who knows what he’ll do to them once I’m out of the picture.  _

Drake gasped for breath as he resurfaced, spitting out water. He caught sight of Bulba’s terrifying grin, before his head was shoved under the water again. 

* * *

The Thunderquack touched down on the hidden platform under the bridge. Launchpad opened the dome glass, already searching the area for his favorite girl. As soon as he spotted her, he said, “I got here as soon as I could, Gos… Yikes! The Fearsome Four!” 

Gosalyn stepped between the plane and the villains, giving Launchpad a wave. “They’re going to help us.” 

Launchpad’s eyes widened, glancing over the villains, before focusing on the young woman. “But I thought they were the ones who kidnapped him? I even helped search for him, but no trace of DW was ever found.” 

“It’s complicated,” the teenager sighed. “Bulba has dad again, and that is NOT a good thing. We need you to fly us back to the Quackwerks Tower.”

“Did you know that Bulba was abusing Drake all these years?” Megavolt interrupted, his eyes focusing intently on Darkwing’s sidekick. 

Launchpad frowned, his brow furrowing. “No. No, I did not. But I had a feeling that things weren’t as pleasant as DW always said they were. He’s good at hiding things, even when he isn’t wearing a mask.” 

“That’s true,” Megavolt admitted. He watched Drake’s daughter climb into the front seat of the duck-faced plane. With a nod to his group, they clamptered into the back sets. The dome cover lowered, and the plane’s engine rumbled to life. 

“Alright everyone,” Gosalyn announced, her crossbow nestled across her lap. “Here’s the plan…”

* * *

Bulba dragged the duck out of the water, stone-faced as he watched the omega struggle for breath. “Do you think I enjoy punishing you, Drake?” 

“You’re, gasp, trying to drown me in our jacuzzi, you sick bast…” 

The businessman sighed as he tightened his grip, and shoved his troublesome mate back under the water. When he next pulled the petite omega from the water, he leaned forward to whisper, “Promise to be mine again - submit yourself to me for the rest of our lives, and I will…” 

The omega spat water at him, drenching his face. “Ne- cough - ver!” Drake’s chest heaved as he tried to get the water out of his lungs. 

Bulba felt his temper snap for the second time that night. He yanked the little duck close, snorting bullishly in his face. “You are MY omega. I claimed you long before they did.” 

“All you care about it yourself,” Drake hissed, his dark eyes glaring up at him. “I will NEVER submit to you again.” 

The alpha took in a deep breath, calming his heartbeat. “Then you are of no further use to me. Goodbye, Darkving Duck.” 

Drake struggled as water closed in on him again, stealing his breath away. 


	16. It Ends Tonight

Voices faded in and out of Drake’s consciousness as he struggled to escape the ominous fog closing in on him from all sides. 

“He’s not breathing!”

“Someone give him mouth to mouth!” 

“I can’t do it - I’m made of water.” 

“Just lay him down, and I’ll do it!” 

Drake thought he could make out two distinctly different voices, but the haze kept threatening to pull him under. He felt someone pressing on his chest, and then something soft sealed against his lips. The pressure on his chest again, followed by his lips… Air suddenly flooded his lungs, wrenching him from the shadowy abyss. The light nearly blinded him as he rolled over, coughing up water. In between gasps, he caught sight of two of his boys in the bathroom with him. 

“Buddy… Elmo…?” Drake dredged in a painful breath, clutching his chest with his now untied hand. Everything hurt. 

The rodent made the first move, pulling him close to give him a squeeze. “We thought we lost you! Don’t you ever scare us like that again!” 

A cool, liquid hand came to rest over his swollen eye, prompting Drake to focus on his watery mate. “You’re going to have quite the shiner,” Liquidator exclaimed softly, clearly taking comfort in Drake being back among the living. 

“Where’s Bulba?” the duck asked, forcing himself to sit up properly. Beyond the bathroom door, he caught sight of Quackerjack and Bushroot being thrown to the carpet, only to bounce back into the fight. A young woman with brilliant red hair ran past the door, and then she turned to let loose a barrage of arrows. 

“Gosalyn…” Drake pushed Megavolt back, struggling to get to his feet. Once upright, he nearly fell over as his legs trembled beneath him. “We need to help them.” 

“Drake, you need to rest,” Megavolt insisted, pressing his hands against the duck’s chest to keep him upright. Liquidator hovered over Drake’s shoulder, ready to catch him if he fell. 

Drake grimaced. “I’ll rest when Taurus Bulba is behind bars for his crimes.” 

“Whoa! Easy there,” Liquidator said, catching the duck as he stumbled forward. 

“Damn this hip!”

“Your cane…” Megavolt held out the cane that they’d brought with them from the tower. The rodent had fried the tracker, of course. No point in letting Bulba know they were coming. 

A grateful smile crossed over the omega’s face. “Thanks, Elmo.”

“Your sidekick, the big pelican guy - he’s getting the police,” the water dog informed him. 

“Launchpad? Of course. I bet Gosalyn called him.” Drake peeked out of the bathroom to survey the scene. “Did any of you bring my gas guns?” 

“We have a few. Gosalyn packed them into that backpack over there,” said Megavolt, waving to the bag that they could see tucked behind the couch. 

“Good. We’re going to need them. Alright boys. Let’s get dangerous!”

* * *

The fight soon relocated to the rooftop patio, which meant that both sides had more room to maneuver. It was the Fearsome Four, Drake and Gosalyn vs. Taurus Bulba and his onslaught of CrimeBots. The rooftop was quickly becoming a battlefield of broken tech and sparking robot bodies. And then the inevitable occurred. Someone got within range of Bulba’s personal, black-plated bot. Long arms darted out, wrapping around the duck’s slim body with deadly accuracy. The duck let out a cry, dropping her weapon in the process as she was pulled against the mech’s chest. 

“Gosalyn!” 

Megavolt grabbed the omega’s uninjured arm, halting him in his tracks, even as they watched a satisfied grin spread across the bull’s face. 

“Well now, isn’t this a fine turn of events,” Bulba chuckled. 

“You’re outnumbered, Bulba!” Drake shouted. 

“Perhaps, but I have the advantage, Drake,” the massive alpha assured him. “How about a trade?” 

“Don’t do it,” Megavolt hissed, still holding the smaller man’s arm. 

“I have to. I can’t risk my daughter’s life.” Drake paused, his gaze flickering to the ground, before focusing intensely on Megavolt. “Elmo, if something happens to me, please take care of my daughter.” 

“Drake…” Megavolt breathed out, his stomach clenching in horror. They’d almost lost their lover once that evening, and now he was willingly putting himself in danger again! The electric villain glanced over at Taurus Bulba, and then at the teenager struggling for freedom next to him. “Alright,” he agreed, taking a reluctant step back. His fingers lingered on the omega’s arm, before dropping away. 

“Thanks, Elmo,” Drake whispered. “For trusting me,” he clarified, before turning to face his husband. “I agree to the trade. Her for me.” 

“Dad, no!” Gosalyn shouted. 

“Don’t do it, Drake!” Bushroot yelped. 

“Are you insane, Darkwing?” Quackerjack shouted. 

Only Liquidator was silent as he stood behind his beta mate. This wasn’t a business trade - this was a hostage negotiation. And Drake was at a clear disadvantage. 

The omega shook his head firmly, before making his way closer to the man he’d been forced to call his husband for the last seven years. “Let Gosalyn go. You know I won’t run.” 

“Yes, you’re very heroic. I know you will not go back on your word, Drake, but I do not trust the company you have chosen to keep,” said the towering alpha. 

“They won’t do anything,” Drake attempted to assure him. “At least, not until the trade is complete, and my daughter is safe.” 

“Very well.” Bulba nodded, and then issued a command to his last remaining CrimeBot. “CrimeBot Alpha, initiate protocol slingshot toward those two.” The man pointed at Bushroot and Liquidator. 

Slingshot?” The omega rushed forward in a panic as the black-plated bot tossed the red-haired girl into the air. He barely registered Bulba’s firm hand darting out to grab him by the collar, yanking him close. On the other end of the roof, Bushroot’s vine arms shot out, wrapping around the young woman’s body as gently as he could. Liquidator helped to support his mate as the beta drew her closer, setting her down on the roof. 

“Dad!” Gosalyn shouted. She made an attempt to rush back to the edge of the roof, but the plant duck held her firmly. “Sorry, kid.” 

Liquidator nodded. “We’re not risking Drake’s life. He can’t take care of himself if he’s worried for you.” 

Bulba grinned triumphantly, dragging Drake closer. “Good little omega.” 

“You won’t win this time, Bulba. Launchpad is alerting the police as we speak, and this time - we have enough evidence to lock you away for life,” Drake threatened. Large fingers curled under his bill as the bull pulled him closer, their lips nearly brushing. 

“Then you and I will have to take a trip out of the country. Gosalyn is nearly 18. She will be able to fend for herself. As for your little villains - I imagine the police will be very eager to return them to their lives behind bars.” Bulba stepped back, his waist brushing the high walled edge of the roof. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Drake snarled, making a final attempt to pull away. Bulba readjusted his hold, pulling the omega against his chest tightly even as he let out a low whistle. A primitive avian caw answered him, followed by a metallic thrumming sound coming from just beyond the rooftop’s edge. A giant, chrome grey shape rose into the air behind Bulba, it’s impressive wingspan casting a shadow down upon them. Pincer-like feet extended to clamp under the alpha’s armpits and around his shoulders, lifting both of them into the air. 

“Drake!” 

“Dad!” 


	17. Freefall

“Do you like my newest creation, Darkving? I’m sure you remember how  _ devastated _ I was at the death of my beloved pet all those years ago. There are still a few bugs to work out, but it flies like a dream,” Bulba said, nodding up at the vulture-like bot that was soaring away from the office building with them in its clutches. 

Drake watched the Quackwerks building getting smaller as they rose into the sky, his heart sinking as everyone he loved was left behind. For a moment, he caught sight of red and blue lights on the streets below. The police were surrounding the tower, and he hoped his boys would get Gosalyn to safety, and then make a clean getaway. His thoughts were interrupted by the alpha’s disappointed tone. 

“This is a very unfortunate predicament you have gotten us into. Such  _ disobedience _ ,” Bulba sighed. Two helicopters came into view, but they were too far away to be of much help. “As your alpha, it is my responsibility to correct that unpleasant behaviour of yours.” 

The last seven years came crashing down on Drake like a landslide. “I am NOT a child. I am a grown adult, and I don’t need you or anyone else to take care of me!” 

“I am your alpha,” Bulba repeated calmly. “You omegas are…”

“You are NOT my alpha!” Drake shouted, glaring furiously up at the man holding him prisoner. “You lost your privilege to be my alpha the first time you RAPED me.” 

The larger man’s lips curled back, revealing terrifyingly sharp alpha canines. “You are MY MATE,” Bulba hissed, his fingers tightening around the smaller man’s body to the point of pain. “I OWN YOU!” 

Heart hammering in his chest, a crystal clear realization washed over him. Bulba was going to kill him. It didn’t matter if he kept him alive for the time being - someday, Bulba would be the one to end his life. It was at that moment that a strange feeling of intense calm came over the omega. This was it. Drake was DONE being his slave. 

“You’re the worst,” the omega whispered, sagging against the alpha’s firm chest. The man laughed, the sound reverberating through the smaller male’s body. Clearly thinking he had finally broken his husband’s spirit, his massive arms loosened. 

“When we get to Cape Suzette,” Bulba announced, throwing out an arm to gesture to the open sky before them, “we will be able to catch a plane to… AAAARRRGGGHHH!” 

As the alpha spoke, Drake had taken advantage of his distracted state to grasp his shoulder with his good hand, quickly hoisting himself up the man’s body. Opening his bill, he’d latched onto Bulba’s neck with his teeth, biting aggressively. The man screamed in pain, unconsciously releasing his grip on the omega. 

Drake dropped quickly, his upper body twisting in the air until he was falling headfirst toward the ground. Above him, he could hear Bulba cursing his name as the mechanical vulture carried him farther away. The realization of finally being free overcame him, bringing with it a sense of unbridled euphoria. The omega found himself laughing as tears rolled up his cheeks, drifting into the sky above him as he hurtled toward the earth below. 

He was free! At long last, he was free!

The stars twinkled above him as he closed his eyes, giving in to his fate. “Goodbye, Gosalyn. I wish I could have been there to see your graduate. Goodbye, Launchpad - I should have been honest with you from the start.” The Fearsome Four flashed to the forefront of his mind, bringing back memories of their battles, their comfort, their protectiveness. “Goodbye boys - I wish we’d had more time together. Thank you for saving me.” 

He continued to fall, waiting for the impact that would surely end his life. 

“Give me your hand!” 

Drake’s eyes shot open. “What?” A familiar figure was falling toward him, closing in on him rapidly. This had to be a dream. 

“Your hand, Darkwing!” 

Drake reached out, feeling the other man’s hand wrap around his seconds before he was pulled close to the alpha’s chest. They were still free falling, but now Drake could see the straps around the other man’s shoulders and chest. A parachute! 

“Hold on!” 

“We won’t make it!” Drake shouted. They were going too fast. Even with the parachute, they’d… A flash of cold water arched up at them from below, causing the omega to shriek in panic. Glancing down, he was shocked to see the Thunderquack flying below them, angled so that Liquidator could send blasts of water up at them, slowing their fall - even if it wasn’t by much. 

“Hang on, Drake!”

“You’ve got this, DW!” 

“We won’t let you down!” 

“We’re here for you, dad!” 

Heart filling with warmth, Drake nodded and clung tightly to the man holding him close. “Okay. I won’t let go.” 

“You’d better not,” the alpha said. “We were about to rescue you when you pulled that insane stunt.” The alpha paused, clearly gauging the distance between them and the ground below. “I’m going to pull the chute now.” 

Drake didn’t have a chance to answer as they jerked upwards, the parachute expanding behind them. Below, the Thunderquack flew out of the way, leaving them with a clear view of the bay getting harrowingly closer by the minute. 

“Brace for landing!” 

Drake nodded again, the words catching in his throat as they finally hit the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter planned... three chapters later.


	18. The Aftermath

It was freezing! The omega kicked his way to the surface, spitting out water as he gasped for breath. Frantically, he searched the bay for any sign of his rescuer, but even with the sun rising in the distance, it was difficult to see below the water. A moment later, the parachute billowed up to the surface, followed by an equally soggy form. The alpha struggled with the straps across his chest, and then managed to unhook the parachute, letting it sink below the surface as he swam toward the omega. 

“You - you - crazy, crazy man!” Drake shouted, dog paddling closer. He kicked his legs to stay afloat, and wrapped his good arm around the other duck’s neck once he was in reach. Unable to help himself, he pressed desperate kisses to the alpha’s bill, sobbing with relief. 

“Yeah, yeah. It’s good to see you, too, Dorkwing,” Jack grumbled, but there was a relieved smile on his face as he held the omega close with one arm, and used his other hand to fish a small rubber duck from his pocket. Pressing a button on the side, he threw it next to them, where it inflated into a giant rubber duckie raft. 

Drake released his hold on the other duck, giving him the space to drag himself up onto the raft. Turning, the jester reached out his hands to pull the omega from the water. The shorter duck took a seat on the rubber floor, and leaned back against the side of the raft. He watched as his alpha mate wordlessly unclipped a paddle from the inside of the raft, and dipped it into the water to steer them toward shore. 

They were on the eastern side of the city, Drake noted, as he spotted the Audubon Bay Bridge in the distance. An engine roared above them, and they watched as the Thunderquack arched over their raft, before coming to a jerky stop on the shore they were paddling toward. Once they were in range, Bushroot’s vines extended to wrap around the rubber duck’s neck, and using the other villains to anchor himself, he began to pull them onto the muddy bank. 

Gripping the side of the raft as best he could, Drake eagerly allowed Launchpad to hoist him out of the rubber float. The pilot smiled as he set him down gently. “You okay there, DW?” 

Drake let out a sigh of relief to feel somewhat solid ground beneath his feet. “Yeah. I think so. A little bruised, and definitely wet, but I’m fine.” 

Launchpad nodded, and then swept the omega back into his arms for a hug. “Next time, tell me you need help. You’re my best friend.” 

“Sorry,” Drake murmured against the beta’s neck. “Thank you for always trying to keep me safe.” 

“That’s what best friends do,” the pilot insisted cheerfully, giving his petite friend another quick squeeze, before releasing him. 

Drake turned his attention to the young woman frowning at him from her post next to the plane. “Gosalyn?” He held out his free arm, and watched her storm across the grass toward him. At the last moment, she dove into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “It’s good to see you, too, Gos.” 

“What were you thinking!” she shouted, tears rolling down her cheeks as she nuzzled against his chest. “You could have died!” 

“But I didn’t,” Drake reminded her softly. “When I adopted you, I swore an oath to myself that I’d never let anyone hurt you if I could prevent it.” She snorted, her lips tweeking up into a partial smile. “Bulba knew I’d do anything I could to save you. Even if it meant risking my own life.” 

Her arms tightened even more. “I don’t want to lose you, dad.” 

“I know. I know,” Drake said, nuzzling his chin against the top of her head. His gaze settled on the Fearsome Four, who were standing near the raft - watching them. “I see you’ve met my boys,” the omega chuckled. 

Gosalyn let out a laugh as she pulled away, turning her attention to the villains. “I’ll take them over Taurus Bulba any day of the week.” 

“Good to hear - because I intend to keep them,” Drake said, whispering the last part to the flame-haired girl. Smiling at the men by the raft, he gestured for them to come closer as Gosalyn stepped away. Instantly, three of the villains surged forward, surrounding him. 

“Are you trying to give us all heart attacks?” 

“Stop being such a self-sacrificing hero.” 

“Ten out of ten doctors agree that omegas should avoid becoming pancakes.” 

Hands stroked his feathers, checking him for injuries, as well as confirming that he was, indeed, in once piece. Drake chuckled as he leaned into their arms, “Sorry I worried you.” A familiar, brightly-colored hat came into view between Megavolt and Bushroot’s shoulders. 

“Jack?” At his inquisitive tone, the villains pulled back, allowing Drake to approach the leader of their group. The jester’s eyes focused on him, then flitted away. “I… You really are a lifesaver, you know that?” 

The jester huffed, crossing his arms over his chest to frown at the omega. “We had almost reached you in the plane when we saw you fighting Bulba. Whatever you did, it caused him to freak out, and then you dropped out of his arms.” 

“And then Jack ordered Launchpad to open the cockpit window. I barely managed to get the parachute on him before he jumped out of the plane,” Megavolt interrupted, stepping closer. “What did you do to Bulba to make him drop you like that?” 

Drake immediately blushed, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Imighthavebithim,” he mumbled, glancing up at his mates through his eyelashes. Equal looks of confusion stared back at him. “I might have bit him…” the omega repeated slowly. 

The sirens drew closer as the villains stared back at him in shock. Then Quackerjack started to laugh, draping an arm around Megavolt’s shoulders to lean on him for support. “You BIT him? You are the craziest omega in the world, Dorkwing.” 

Megavolt grinned, helping to keep his alpha mate upright. “Bulba was furious. We were mostly focused on saving you, of course, but he started shouting and then flew off in the direction of Cape Suzette.” 

“Yeah, I know. He said something about catching a plane when we got there. I don’t think I’ll get a proper night’s sleep till he’s behind bars,” Drake said, smiling despite the harrowing realization that Bulba was still at large. 

“Hey, did you hang onto Mr. Banana Brain like I told you to, sparky?” the jester interrupted, poking the rodent in the chest lightly. 

“Yeah, yeah. Your doll is fine,” Megavolt said, digging the doll out of his pant’s pocket. Jack took it eagerly, hugging it close before slipping it into his shirt. 

“What happens now?” Launchpad asked, glancing over the group. 

“I’d say it’s time for a group hug,” Bushroot said cheerfully, rushing forward to wrap his vine arms around the omega’s body. The other villains followed suit until Drake was nestled into their protective embrace.  Surrounded by his mates, his daughter, his best friend - the former-vigilante finally felt safe. Sirens immediately shattered the serene moment. All heads turned to see three police cruisers and an ambulance rounding a bend in the road, racing toward them. 

Drake extracted himself carefully from the group. “Gos, can you give me a hand?” 

“Sure, dad.” The young woman stepped up next to him, offering the shorter duck her arm. 

Drake glanced over his shoulder at his boys. The toymaker had taken a firm, unphased stance in the centre, with the others crowding around him. Jack was still something of a mystery to Drake. The alpha had never shared the incident that had changed him from a playful and destructive jester to a more solemn and serious villain. Still, the omega would take Quackerjack over Negaduck any day of the week. At least the toymaker cared around his teammates, even if he rarely admitted it aloud. 

As the cops began to scramble out of their cars, the omega made sure to keep himself between them and his mates. An older dog man with greying brown hair, thick glasses, and a heavy mustache made his way to the middle of the group as the cops drew their weapons. “Mr. Bulba and other civilians, please step away from the supervillains,” announced the chief of police. 

Drake and Gosalyn stepped forward, and the omega fixed his gaze on the dog man in the rumpled suit. “Chief Gordon, I presume.” In reality, Drake knew who he was. He’d had plenty of run-ins with James Gordon back when he was Darkwing Duck. The man could be stern, but he cared deeply about the safety of the citizens of St. Canard. “The Fearsome Four rescued me. In fact, this is the third time they’ve rescued me from Taurus Bulba, my abusive husband. Surely you wouldn’t arrest them for keeping me safe.” 

“Yeah!” Gosalyn piped up. “My dad wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t saved his life.” 

“It’s true,” Launchpad whole-heartedly agreed. 

The police chief faltered for a brief moment, clearly startled by the fact that the people he’d arrived to rescue were now siding with some of the city’s most dangerous villains. “Be that as it may, Mr. Bulba…” 

“Mr. Mallard, please,” the omega insisted. 

“Mr. Mallard,” Chief Gordon said, nodding. He gestured to the villains standing near the duckie raft. “The Fearsome Four are wanted criminals…” 

“They’re my mates!” Drake said firmly, standing his ground. The entire group of law enforcement officers and medical staff gaped at him in amazement. 

“All of them, Mr. Mallard?” the chief asked, clearly as stunned as his officers. “That’s… highly unusual. Perhaps the medical staff should have a chance to examine you. It’s already a miracle that you survived a fall from such a tremendous height.” 

Drake shook his head. “I can honestly say that I do not have Stockholm syndrome. Due to an illegal drug my husband was using, I ended up experiencing several different heats during my time with the Fearsome Four. They helped me through it, and it was entirely consensual. As for the fall, if not for these amazing men, I would have DIED. They are my mates - all of them.” 

“Still, Mr. Mallard, you must understand that we can’t just look the other way. The Fearsome Four are wanted criminals. You will have to discuss their release with Judge Griffon.” 

The omega opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Jack had stepped forward, and was now standing just behind him. 

“Drake, that’s enough. You need medical attention. Bulba nearly drowned you earlier, and that fall couldn’t have been good for your health,” the jester stated firmly. Picking up on the seriousness of the situation, and each casting concerned glances at Drake, the other villains quickly voiced their agreement. Leaving the inflatable raft on the shore, the Fearsome Four trudged around Drake and Gosalyn, and held their hands up in surrender as they approached the cop cars. 

“Guys…” There was a note of distress in Drake’s voice as he watched his lovers being cuffed, and shoved into the back seats of individual cars. Last to be taken was Liquidator, who silently flowed into a giant glass bottle, which was quickly corked and buckled into the back seat next to Quackerjack. 

“I’m sure you know the drill, Mr. Mallard,” Chief Gordon sighed, waving him toward the ambulance. “The Fearsome Four will be temporarily housed at the inner city prison, and later transferred to the St. Canard Maximum Security Supervillain Prison on the island. You’re welcome to voice your concerns at City Hall, where Judge Griffon can review your case.” He made his way back to the car he’d arrived in, and slid into the driver’s seat. 

“What do we do now, DW?” Launchpad whispered. 

“They’ll probably want me to head to the hospital for a more thorough examination,” Drake began, only to be cut off by his daughter. 

“I’m coming with you!” 

“Gosalyn…” Drake trailed off as he took in the look of fierce determination on the young alpha’s face. She wasn’t about to take no for an answer, and he couldn’t really blame her. “That’s a good idea, actually. You still haven’t told me how you got all the way back to St. Canard. You still have a few months left of school.” 

Drake turned to glance back over his shoulder at his friend. “LP, why don’t you fly the plane back to your hanger. Best not to leave it out here for the reporters. Once I get out of the hospital, I’ll find a way to free my boys, and then we’ll catch up to plan what to do next. Bulba is still at large, and I won’t stop until he’s behind bars.” 

The pilot nodded as the medics approached the father and daughter, and then turned to retrieve his plane. As he started the engine, he could see the medical staff examining Drake and Gosalyn for injuries. Despite the events of the previous evening, DW was still as resilient as ever. “See you later, DW,” Launchpad muttered aloud, even as the Thunderquack took off into the air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chief of police is the man we saw in the Darkwing: First Darkness (trailer), and a play on Batman’s police commissioner. But he needed the authority to actually arrest people, so he’s now chief of police in my eyes.


	19. Adopt-a-Con

_Note: Cell block: Quackerjack, Bushroot, Megavolt, Liquidator - in that order._

Megavolt gripped the cell bars tightly, and then leaned forward to rest his forehead against the cool metal. The cops had thrown them in separate cells the moment they’d reached the prison in the heart of downtown St. Canard. The day following Bulba’s demise had been a long one, and they hadn’t heard a single update on Drake’s condition. Night had fallen, and they’d each tried their best to sleep. And now it was mid-afternoon on the second day, according to the single clock that clicked away on the far wall across from the cell block. In a few hours, an armored van would arrive to drag them off to the St. Canard Maximum Security Supervillain Prison.

“How long do you think we’ll be locked up before Drake is able to bail us out?” Bushroot asked from his cell on Megavolt’s left.

“I’m betting a few months,” Quackerjack said. He was lying back on his cot, staring at the pigeon grey ceiling. “If he even bothers to help us. He’s a free bird now.”

“Quackerjack,” Liquidator gurgled, but his protests could barely be heard through the thick glass walls of his bottle prison.

“Buddy’s right,” the plant mutant snapped, glaring at the jester in the cell next to him. “Drake wouldn’t abandon us.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” the colorfully-clothed duck snorted rudely. The cops had confiscated Mr. Banana Brain, and all of his pocket toys, before tossing the villains in their cells, so he had no way of filling his time. “Maybe he finally came to his senses, and decided we were too much trouble to keep around.”

“Drake wouldn’t just leave us here,” Megavolt said, but deep down, even he was starting to have his doubts. The cell block fell silent as the Fearsome Four waited for the inevitable.

* * *

“Are you sure about this? Three of them ARE supervillains, and Quackerjack is a mad genius.”

The villains perked up as the heavy inner prison doors were pushed open, revealing Judge Griffon’s towering form. Bushroot and Megavolt couldn’t help but cringe at the sight of him, given that the judge only visited the prison if it was absolutely necessary. Thankfully, a smaller form behind the robed man caught their eye next.

“I’m sure, Judge Griffon,” Drake answered, smiling down the row of cells. Clad in a green dress shirt and dark pants, he was a breath of fresh air within the prison walls. “They’re my mates, and I won’t leave them behind bars.”

The judge sighed heavily. “Very well, Mr. Mallard. You know the terms of their release according to the Adopt-a-Con program.”

Drake patted the envelope that was tucked under his arm. “I’ll have them read and sign it as soon as we get home.”

“Good.” The judge motioned for the guards to unlock the cell doors, which they did hesitantly, as if they expected the Fearsome Four to attack the moment they looked away. “You fellows are being released into Mr. Mallard’s custody,” the white-wigged alpha said, gesturing to the petite omega next to him. “I expect you to be on your BEST behavior from here on out. Any illegal funny business, and I’ll throw you back in the slammer for good!”

“With conjugal visits,” Drake interjected.

“Er, yes.” The judge’s cheeks bloomed at the smaller man’s words. “But I won’t be happy.”

“Neither will I. It would be a shame if one of my boys ended up back in prison, after I went through the trouble of bailing them out,” Drake said, narrowing his gaze on the villains as they stepped out of the cells in their handcuffs. “Those will definitely need to come off… and would one of you be a dear, and let poor Liquidator out of his bottle?” the omega asked the guards.

The uniformed men glanced quickly at the judge, who nodded, before doing as they were told. The water mutant surged out of his glass prison, taking his place next to Bushroot. Megavolt took a step back to avoid getting drenched.

“Let’s go home,” said Drake, leading the way out of the cell block. “My driver is collecting your belongings at the front desk, so you won’t have to worry about leaving anything behind.”

***

Once they were piled into the back of the limo - who brings a limo to a prison? - the Fearsome Four immediately launched into their questions and concerns.

“Are you alright, Drake?” Bushroot asked, his leafy hands sweeping over the duck’s smaller body.

“A little bruised and sore, but I’ll live,” Drake assured him. “The doctor says I’ll need the cast on for a while longer. My broken arm really didn’t like being thrown around.”

“How did you get the judge to release us?” Megavolt asked.

“I’ve been wondering that myself,” admitted Liquidator curiously.

“Ah, well…” Drake glanced past them, nodding at the sight of the firmly closed window between them and the driver. “Let’s just say that the judge is now one of the special people who knows Darkwing Duck’s true identity.” The omega sat back, glancing up at the ceiling. “I needed something more than just the reality of Bulba’s… abuse. You did kidnap me, after all. Once I explained Bulba’s criminal ties, and the fact that your kidnapping led to us working together to try to stop him - well, he was a bit more lenient.”

“So we’re heading back to your home at the Quackwerks Tower now?” Bushroot asked, folding his hands back in his lap.

“Actually…” Drake said, perking up. “Gosalyn’s soccer game will be starting in half an hour. I booked us a private booth… if you’re interested, that is.” His gaze darted around the group, landing on Quackerjack who was sitting at the far end, silently adjusting Mr. Banana Brain’s clothing. “You don’t have to… I can have Ms. Zara, she’s my driver, drop you off at the tower. You’ll have to be supervised by the security guards while I’m away, but…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Megavolt snorted. “Of course, we’ll go to the game with you.”

“Really?” The omega stared at them with wide eyes.

“If she’s half as good at soccer as she is at crime fighting, then this will definitely be a match for the ages,” said Bushroot pleasantly. Megavolt and Liquidator voiced their agreement.

  
“Jack?” Drake asked, glancing back at the jester.

“Sure. Nothing better to do tonight,” the toymaker commented, barely sparing him a glance.

“Okay, then we’ll head over there now. Are any of you hungry? We can make a quick stop for takeout on the way there, or just eat at the snack bar.” After receiving their answers, Drake tapped the intercom button next to him, informing his driver that they should be taken directly to the stadium.

* * *

_(After the game. Gosalyn’s team won by one point)_

“Hi, I’m Webby,” the young woman said, holding out her hand. Gosalyn glanced up from where she was attempting to shove her feet into her boots, and felt her heart skip a beat. The other girl was really cute! “I was the backup player from Duckberg.”

“Duckberg, huh? That’s a bit of a drive just for a game,” said Gosalyn, getting to her feet. She took the other duck’s hand, and shook it. “I’m Gosalyn Mallard. Fun fact: I’m from St. Canard, so we’re practically neighbours.”

“Really? I thought Wimbleton Prep was a school in England. Did I get my facts wrong?” the other girl chuckled, reclaiming her hand to rub the back of her head.

“Nope. It’s a boarding school. My dad’s former mate insisted on sending me there. But I’ll be graduating this year, and then I’ll be moving back to St. Canard.” The red-head zipped up her jacket, and slung her skates over her shoulder. She’d tied the laces with a knot, so she wouldn’t have to hold on to them.

“Yeah, me too. I mean, I’ll be graduating this year, too. So, um, you were really good out there. Your last goal won the game,” said Webby, her voice quivering slightly.

Gosalyn smiled, noting the faint flush on the other girl’s cheeks. “Just lucky, I guess. Hey, not to be rude, but you’re an omega - right?”

Instantly, the white-haired girl wilted. “Uh, yeah. Is that a problem? Omegas can be good at sports, too!” Wendy insisted defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No, no! I didn’t mean it like that,” Gosalyn assured her. She waited until the slightly shorter girl glanced up at her, before continuing, “Omega can be just as good at sports as betas and alphas.”

“Oh?” A smile that blossomed on Webby’s face, like a flower greeting the sun. “Not many alphas think that way.”

Gosalyn pursed her lips, and set her hands on her hips. “Yeah, well those alphas are just old-fashioned. Look up there!” She pointed at the private booth where Drake and the Fearsome Four were gathering their things. She wasn’t sure how her dad talked them all into joining him, but it was nice to have him and his new mates rooting for her. “That duck in the middle is my dad. He adopted me when I was 9, after my grandpa died. He’s one of the bravest omegas I know.”

“Really?”

“He pretended to be an alpha for years. He didn’t want anyone treating him differently because of his gender. He was a private detective, and studied martial arts, and even… well, he’s pretty great. So, yeah, omegas can be anything they want to be,” Gosalyn boasted proudly.

“Wow, your dad seems pretty co…”

“Webbigail!”

The girl with the pink blow clip glanced around at the sound of her name. “That’s my grandma,” she sighed, waving at a heavy-set woman waiting for her. “She’s my ride.” Webby turned back to Gosalyn, and said, “It was really great meeting you. If it isn’t too weird… can we exchange emails?”

“Sure, cutie,” Gosalyn said, giving her new omega friend a wink. Webby’s cheeks immediately burst into pink flames. So cute. The red-head smiled as the other girl dug through her purple backpack, pulling out a small notebook and a pen. They quickly exchanged emails, and Webby waved goodbye as she rushed off to join the older, stern-faced woman.

“Ready to go, kiddo?” Drake asked, approaching from the other side.

Gosalyn was so focused on the other girl that she hadn’t even noticed him and his mates striding up to her. “Daaaad, I’m 17!” Gosalyn groaned, but she smiled to show that she was just teasing him. In response, he reached forward, and tousled her hair fondly.

“You’ll always be my little girl, even when you’re a senior citizen,” Drake insisted.

Gosalyn glanced around him. The Fearsome Four were several steps behind him, respectfully giving them a little space. “I can’t believe you convinced the judge to release all of them.”

“Ah, yes.” Drake glanced over his shoulder, giving the villains a little wave. Three of them, and one banana-headed doll, waved back enthusiastically. The former vigilante leaned closer to whisper to Gosalyn, “Let’s just say that the judge and I go way back. With everything that happened, I had to let him in on a certain former-masked avenger’s identity.”

“Really?”

“Yep. The guys are now in my custody, and they’ll be living with us from here on out. Now, who was that girl you were chatting with?” he asked curiously.

“Webby. She’s from Duckberg. She said she was here as a substitute player,” the teen informed him, even as they made their way to the exit.

“She played really well,” Drake admitted.

“Yep!” Gosalyn said, pushing out her chest proudly. “And she’s an omega.”

It was her dad’s turn to be surprised. “I see. Do we need to have ‘The Talk?’”

“Dad!” Gosalyn protested, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’ve already had the talk. You know I’d never…”

Drake held up his free hand in surrender. “I know. I know. You’ve grown into a bold and respectful young woman. I’m proud of you. Now, give your old man a hug before you head back to the hotel with your team.” The red-head gently wove her arms around her omega father, who was now shorter than her due to her growth spurt the year before. She was careful not to jostle his bandaged arm.

“End of the school year is only a few months away. I’ll be flying down for your graduation, and then you’ll be back home to St. Canard.” Drake’s free arm tightened around her. “I can’t wait to have you home again.”

“Yeah.” Gosalyn pulled back, and then fixed her gaze on the villains several feet behind them. “You guys had better take care of him while I’m gone. If I hear of any funny business…”

“No funny business! Drake is our mate now. We need to keep him safe,” Megavolt assured her, his whiskers twitching rapidly.

“Good.” Gosalyn had a feeling she could trust Megavolt, Liquidator and Bushroot. Definitely Bushroot. But she still wasn’t sure what to think of Quackerjack’s new sullen personality. He used to be the fun one - reckless, but fun. Guess the years hadn’t been kind to him either. Still, her dad trusted him, so she’d try her best to do so, as well. “Well, I should go. My team is likely already at the bus.” She waved goodbye to her strange new family, and headed out the stadium doors. In a few months, she’d be done with school. It would be hard to say goodbye to her friends, but she’d feel so much better when she was back in St. Canard - that way she could keep an eye on her dad. He wouldn’t get kidnapped again on her watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Finally able to add Ducktales 2017. The story will still focus mainly on Drake and the Fearsome Four, but I do like Gosalyn/Webby. Also, OC character is Zara Bhasin, a fiercely loyal female tiger employed as Drake's driver and bodyguard.


	20. Unexpected News

They’d gone back to the tower the night before. A special four-floor elevator covered the last floor of the business part of the building, and the three top floors. The villains had stared in slack-jawed awe at the grand staircase that greeted them on the first penthouse floor. 

“Oh… Yeah, Bulba is a very wealthy man,” Drake had explained, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “I guess Gosalyn and I have gotten used to it. Still doesn’t feel much like home, even after all these years.” 

After Drake had shown them around the penthouse, they’d collectively agreed to camp out in the first floor living room. As Quackerjack and Megavolt pulled the mattress and blankets off the guest room bed, Bushroot and Liquidator located their own bedding. They soon had everything set up in the living room, so that they could arrange themselves in front of the wall-mounted TV screen to watch a movie. They fell asleep in the early hours of the morning with the omega tucked safely between Quackerjack and Megavolt. 

* * *

The sun was shining brightly through the open window blinds when Megavolt sat up in their makeshift bed. He was mid-stretch when he heard a glass shattering from the nearby kitchen. The other villains barely stirred, and Drake was the only one missing, which meant he was likely the cause of the shattered glass. Pushing off the covers, he rushed into the other room. Given the events of the previous days, and the fact that Bulba was still at large, he couldn’t help fearing the worst. 

Drake was standing, back to the door, his gaze fixed on a touch-screen monitor on the counter. A news reporter was chatting away, but Megavolt’s eyes immediately dropped to the glistening shards of glass surrounding the duck’s bare feet. “Hold still. I’m going to clean that up. Where do you keep the brooms in this place?” The electric rodent was hastily opening doors, hoping to find a storage closet, when the omega finally spoke. 

“They… they said they found the remains of a strange metal bird just off the cliffs of Cape Suzette. The police are speculating that something caused it to crash into the cliffs. They…” Drake paused, wrapping his arms around himself. 

“They what?” Megavolt wondered, but his attention was still fixated on cleaning up the mess before someone - namely Drake - stepped on broken glass. As he began to sweep around the omega’s feet, he glanced up to see tears trailing down the former-vigilante’s cheeks. “Drake…” Sweeping the glass to the side quickly, but not bothering to pick it up, he set the broom aside, and wrapped his arms around the shorter man’s waist. Beautiful dark eyes glanced up at him, but the omega’s thoughts seemed to be a million miles away.

“The police think that Bulba might have fallen into the sea, and been swept away. The parts of the robot that they found were lodged along the rocks at the bottom of the cliffs. The rest of it likely ended up in the water. They found scraps of clothing, as well. Torn red and white fabric, and a size 10 men’s dress shoe. Bulba wore size 10 shoes…” 

Megavolt nodded, reaching out one hand to turn up the news report while he continued to hold the omega close. The reporter was discussing more details about the strange discovery, and clearly linking it to a criminal on the run - Taurus Bulba. 

“What’s going on, guys?” Bushroot yawned, stepping into the kitchen. He caught sight of the embracing pair as the news report continued behind them. “There’s a TV back in the living room. Why don’t we head back there?” 

The rat nodded, flicking off the monitor with his tail. “Go with Bushroot into the other room. I’ll finish cleaning up the mess,” Megavolt said, pushing the omega gently into the plant duck’s arms. 

“Oh! I was going to make breakfast,” Drake realized, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I can whip something up,” the alpha said, smiling with false cheerfulness. He waved as the pair left the room, and then flipped back on the news report as he finished cleaning up the mess. So, Bulba might be dead… He wasn’t a religious man, but if there was a hell, he hoped the brutish alpha was burning in it. 

* * *

It was nearly noon when more information came in from Cape Suzette. “The police have released a statement that a severed arm, and a broken horn were found at the base of the cliffs.”

“A severed arm…” Drake’s fingers were trembling as he turned up the TV. Next to him, Bushroot quickly wrapped a vine arm around his shoulders, holding him close. 

“Guys, you should get in here!” the plant duck called out. 

“What happened?” Megavolt was the first through the door, followed by Quackerjack and Liquidator. They gathered around the omega and beta, eyeing them with concern, before focusing on the news report. 

“The body parts found at the base of the cliff are too graphic to show on television. As our news team reported earlier, it is suspected that they belong to Taurus Bulba, who is wanted for criminal charges in St. Canard. If the alpha is found deceased, he leaves behind a mate and a 17-year-old daughter.” 

The TV screen flickered to black, and Megavolt set down the remote on the side table, before turning to address their omega. “We shouldn’t dwell on the news. If Bulba is dead, then we can relax. If he’s still alive, then we’ll deal with him when the time comes.” 

Drake nodded slowly. “You’re right. Why - why don’t we get out of here for a bit?” 

“Where should we go?” Bushroot wondered aloud. “I'm sure the public is still nervous around us, given that we are supervillains.” 

“We could go to the mall or the zoo,” Drake suggested lightly. “The people of St. Canard will just have to get used to having you four around. I’m going to head upstairs to change… OH!”” The omega spun around, fixing his gaze on the other men. “We should send someone to get your clothes and things from the warehouse… or I could take you shopping for new clothes. It would give me an excuse to spend more of Bulba’s money.” 

“Probably best to head to the warehouse first. Jack’s outfit isn’t exactly easy to buy off the rack,” said Megavolt, eyeing his alpha mate. “Do we have to take the limo? Seriously, if we park that thing at the warehouse, it’ll get stolen the moment we turn our backs.” 

Drake let out a laugh, but quickly confirmed that they had several company vehicles to choose from. As long as he was with them, Megavolt could drive one of the less-conspicuous vans. “Then we’ll head back here, drop everything off, and relax at the zoo for a few hours.” 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Liquidator gurgled cheerfully. 

The omega smiled, and made his way to the elevator. As the doors slid open, he turned to glance over his shoulder at the Fearsome Four. “I’ll be down soon. And guys… thanks for sticking around.” 

The villains waved as the doors closed, and they watched their mate’s figure through the glass walls as the elevator rose to the top floor, and let him out. 

“Well, I’m going to take a quick shower,” Megavolt announced, heading down the hall. “Anyone else need one?”

“I’m good. Took one at the jail,” Jack reminded his mate. He’d been soaked through after his dip in the bay, so the cops had practically shoved him into the prison bathroom the moment they’d arrived. They hadn’t washed his costume the way he’d have done it, and forced him to wear the same boring prison uniform as Megavolt, but at least his clothes had been clean when Drake’s driver had collected their belongings. 

“So, you think Bulba’s really dead?” asked Bushroot, keeping his voice low. 

“Most doctors would agree that falling off Cape Suzette’s infamous cliffs guarantees a near certain death,” Liquidator said. “But it is possible that his robot was closer to the ground when it malfunctioned.” 

“Hopefully he managed to drown himself,” Quackerjack snorted. “If we’re lucky, the sharks are devouring his remains as we speak.”

The sound of an elevator DING caught their attention, and they watched it make its way back down to them. “Let’s just keep this to ourselves,” Bushroot whispered nervously. “Drake doesn’t need the extra stress.” Liquidator nodded his agreement, but Quackerjack just shrugged his shoulders, his attention focusing on the banana doll in his hands. 

The omega’s petite form stepped out of the elevator. He’d changed into a long rose-patterned pink skirt and a poofy blouse, completing the look with a casual tan jacket, and a pretty little purse slung across his shoulders. 

“Where’s Elmo?” Drake asked curiously, glancing around the main hall they were standing in. 

“I’m here,” the rodent announced, stepping into the room. He was rubbing his hair with a golden towel, and had changed back into the outfit he’d been wearing since they’d left the prison, which happened to be a yellow dress shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. His eyes immediately widened when he caught sight of Drake near the elevator. “You're… uh… looking nice, Drake.” 

“The Liquidator has to agree!” 

‘Definitely,” Bushroot said. 

“You look better in pants,” Quackerjack groused, but there was no real bite to his words. 

The omega’s cheeks darkened as he thanked them, and then they made their way back into the elevator to head down to the lower floor. “We’ll use one of the regular elevators to head down to the garage, and get a set of keys from the security guards stationed down there. It won’t take us too long to drive back to the warehouse for your things.” 

“And then we’ll head to the zoo,” Bushoot piped up. 

“Yep!” Drake agreed. “It will be nice to get away from this place for a while.”

* * *

“I regret to inform you, Mr. Bulba, that your husband’s body has been found, and he has officially been declared deceased,” the older officer said. The pair of alpha cops had been waiting on the main floor of the Quackwerks building the moment Drake and the Fearsome Four had returned from their day out. 

“Mr. Mallard, please,” Drake reminded them calmly. The police woman nodded, her gaze narrowing on the men standing just behind the omega. “They’re in my custody as part of the Adopt-a-Con program,” the duck was quick to say. 

“Of course, Mr. Mallard. Witnesses from the shore reported hearing a loud explosion, and seeing a fire in the air from a distance. By the time the emergency crews arrived, it was too late,” the avian woman said, clearly watching Drake for a reaction. 

“My husband… was a criminal. And I’ve already given statements to the police department. If there were any personal effects found at the scene, they can be disposed of,” said Drake. His fingers were trembling lightly as he gripped his cane with his free hand, but his expression betrayed none of his internal feelings. 

“The officers at the scene were able to recover a wedding ring,” the older officer, a dogman with greying fur, said. 

Drake shook his head. “I don’t want anything of his back. Taurus Bulba was… well, as I said, I’ve already given my statement to the police. He made funeral arrangements years ago. When I retrieve the paperwork, I will send it along. Anything you’ve recovered can be sent to the funeral home to be buried along with his remains. Now, if you don’t mind, it is getting late, and I would like to retire for the evening.”

“Of course,” the older officer was quick to say, his smile kind as he stepped back. 

“Chief Gordon may request a follow up interview with you, Mr. Mallard. This is a very unusual case, you understand…” the police woman stated, her gaze returning to the Fearsome Four. 

“My mates have been with me since they were released from police custody,” the omega told her. “If you require footage from our security cameras, please let me know. As for Chief Gordon, I would be more than willing to discuss the case further with him. Will that be all, officers?” 

The alpha woman opened her beak, but a hand on her arm froze her words. “Yes, that will be all for today, Mr. Mallard. We’ll be in touch if we need more information.” He tipped his hat to the omega, and led his partner out of the building. 

“Glad that’s over with,” Drake grumbled, watching the backs of the officers as they exited the building. Taurus Bulba was dead. He’d no longer be able to hurt anyone ever again. Drake was about to turn and address his mates when darkness clouded his vision. In his last moment of awareness, he felt watery arms wrap around him, drawing him closer as the shadows enveloped him. 

* * *

_I’m dead._ That was Drake’s first thought when he opened his eyes to the monochrome expanse of nothingness that surrounded him. Stepping forward, he caught sight of his reflection in the clear, almost mirror-like ground beneath his feet. Darkwing Duck stared back at him, his body unburdened by the injuries he’d had before he’d lost consciousness. Before the omega had a chance to ponder this turn of events, the darker shadows drifted closer, melding together into a menacing figure that towered over him. 

A giant, cloudy hand stretched toward him, but the omega found himself unable to move as it wrapped around him. Struggling for some control over his own body, Drake was drawn closer to the horned figure, which was at least three times the size of the original Taurus Bulba. Unable to make out specific features, the omega could still feel the alpha’s voice as it flooded over his much smaller form. “Did you think you were free, Darkving? You will NEVER be free. You belong to ME!” 

“You’re not real!” Drake shouted, his body suddenly mobile, despite the shadow alpha’s grip. He fought to escape as the fingers tightened around him, dragging the breath from his lungs. “H-help…” 

Grey water hit the cloudy figure directly in the chest, followed by a surge of off-white lightning. Vines the color of concrete crawled up the shadow creature's body, until they were wrapped firmly around its massive arms and chest. The hand holding Drake shot open, dropping him toward the unforgiving ground. As he fell, the omega caught a glimpse of man-sized toy soldiers in white and black suits marching toward the giant’s feet, swords at the ready. 

“Thanks, boys…” he managed to whisper. The sensation of something soft and fluffy wrapping around his body was the last thing he felt as his eyes drifted shut. 

* * *

“I think he’s waking up!” a voice called out. There was something firm under his cheek, and it smelled so familiar and safe that Drake couldn’t help but rub against it. His eyelids blinked open slowly as he took in the yellow fabric he was pressed against. 

“Elmo?” 

“We’re here,” the rodent reassured him, even as Drake pushed himself up into a seated position. The omega glanced around, taking in the familiar sight of his penthouse living room. He was currently sitting between Megavolt and Quackerjack, and they’d wrapped a fluffy pink bathrobe around him. 

“W-what happened?” Drake asked, his voice trembling slightly. 

Megavolt and Quackerjack exchanged a glance over his head. “You fainted,” Jack stated, eyeing the omega for signs of it happening again. 

“Fainted!” Drake couldn’t help shouting in disbelief. 

Megavolt cringed. “Passed out..?” the rat offered hesitantly. 

“Why would I pass out?” the omega huffed, pushing himself up from the couch. He’d only taken a single step, before his knees buckled under him, causing the two alphas to grab him to keep him from falling. Carefully, they lowered him back onto the couch, checking him for injuries. 

“You’ve been through a lot, Drake,” Megavolt finally announced. “You nearly DIED several times - and that was just this week! Why can’t you just admit that you need help?” 

“What he **needs** is tea and rest,” Bushroot interrupted, striding into the room with a confidence that he was not normally known for. Liquidator followed behind him. After handing Drake a mug brimming with herbal tea, the mutants settled onto the carpet in front of the couch.

The omega wanted to protest the obvious coddling. He was Darkwing Duck. Something like this shouldn’t phase him. But he was also Drake Mallard - a man who had been abused by his own husband for years. He couldn’t just hide behind a mask, and pretend that everything was okay. 

Drake glanced around at his mates. Their concern was almost palpable. It lingered in the air, and weighed heavily on his shoulders. A sigh escaped his lips. He wasn’t fine. And they were right - he needed them. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bushroot asked softly, breaking the silence. 

_No._ Drake brought the mug to his lips, letting the warm, fragrant liquid fill him with the courage to speak. “Knowing the Bulba is dead should be a good thing. But instead, I just feel…” His brow scrunched up as he searched for the words to explain everything he was feeling at that very moment. The other men were silent, waiting patiently for him to continue. “Numb,” Drake concluded. 

Drake waited for them to push for more, but they didn’t. The former-villains just nodded in agreement, and the two mutants sitting in front of the couch visibly relaxed. Megavolt kept his arm firmly wrapped around the omega’s waist, while Quackerjack leaned against the armrest. It was… comforting to know that they weren’t in a rush to leave him to his own thoughts. 

“I should call Gos and LP to tell them the news,” Drake said.

Bushroot reached forward to lay a hand on the smaller man’s robe-covered knees. His voice was soothing and calm as he said, “It can wait a few minutes. Finish your tea.” 

“Okay,” Drake agreed. The events of the past week swirled around him, reminding him of what was to come. “You know, we’re going to be really busy after this. Bulba’s criminal empire isn’t going to crumble overnight.” 

Megavolt snorted loudly. “Whatever we need to do, it can wait until tomorrow,” the rat insisted, pulling the omega closer. 

“The Liquidator agrees whole-heartedly!” 

“No point in rushing things.”

Quackerjack blinked as all eyes turned to him. “What? Even Mr. Banana Brain agrees that former-heroes need their rest.” 

“Thanks, guys,” Drake said, casting his mates a sincere smile as he leaned against his taller lover’s shoulder. He just wanted to close his eyes, and breathe in their protective scents. He wasn’t sure when the Fearsome Four had started to smell like home, but somewhere along the line… they had. As his eyelids grew heavy, he felt Bushroot’s leafy hands caressing his own before the mug was pulled away from him. This was nice. He’d rest his eyes for a moment, and then make those phone calls. 

* * *

Who knew Darkwing Duck could look so soft and content? The former-villains couldn’t hold back their smiles of relief as the omega snuggled closer to Megavolt, mumbling in his sleep. It was hard to believe that only a few months ago, they’d have been at each other's throats if they’d met the vigilante in full costume on the streets. 

“Should I try to move him to the bed?” Megavolt whispered. 

“Maybe in a bit. Let’s just let him sleep,” said Liquidator. He surged up from the floor, and held out his hand to help his beta mate to his feet. “We’ll go make those phone calls to young Gosalyn and Launchpad. Drake can call them back later.” 

“Yeah. Better to hear it from us than the news,” Bushroot agreed. As the mutants left the room, Quackerjack took the opportunity to scooch closer, crossing his legs so he could rest his chin on his hand, his gaze focused on their sleeping omega. 

“What are you thinking, Jack?” Megavolt asked curiously, his hand wrapped loosely around Drake’s waist. 

A grin settled on the jester’s face. “Guess I was wrong. Maybe he does want to keep us around, after all.” 

“I hope so,” the rat sighed. “Goodness knows he needs someone to watch his back. If we left, and something happened to him…” 

“Then we stay. Dorkwing has more than enough old enemies out there. If they want him, they’ll have to go through us,” the toymaker said, his eyes glinting dangerously. 

“We stay,” Megavolt agreed. 

“Oh good,” Bushroot said, peeking his head into the room. “Buddy and I already decided that we weren’t leaving Drake to fend for himself. Glad we’re all on the same page.” 

“Okay, I’m going to move him to the bed. He’s going to get a crick in his neck if he keeps sleeping like this,” said the electrical rodent. The omega barely stirred as he was carried, bridal style, to the mattress set up in the middle of the room. Laying him down, and drawing the covers up to his neck, the former-villains quietly left the room to discuss their plans for the future. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, I did consider bringing Bulba back in the future, similar to the comic, but ultimately decided against it. The sequel will be focused on the relationship between Drake and the Fearsome Four, as well as the return of old friends and enemies.

**Author's Note:**

> According to my research, the orchid is a symbol of fertility, elegance and luxury. 
> 
> I would highly recommend reading the graphic novel: Darkwing Duck: The Duck Knight Returns before continuing this fic. This story is set in an alpha/beta/omega version of this Quackwerks-centered future, minus the Bulba cyborg plotline. Quackerjack’s character is far darker in this comic, so he may seem very OC if you haven’t read it.


End file.
